


Distortion

by Melibell



Series: Aeternum [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BiGender!Aaravos, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Other, Past Abortion, Trans!Viren, Unplanned Pregnancy, sharing a body with your king
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:13:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melibell/pseuds/Melibell
Summary: What if Viren does sacrifice his life for Harrow and gives his body to save his king(Rough Draft, No Beta, We die like dragons!)
Relationships: Aaravos/Harrow/Viren, Aaravos/Viren (The Dragon Prince), Harrow/Viren (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Aeternum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612879
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. Gambit

Viren pushes aside the heavy doors, entering the room “I have given thought to what you said.” he looks aside for a moment. 

“Oh have you, then why have you returned with that abomination” Harrow sharpens his sword. 

“Yes, I’ve brought the soulfang” he pauses “I have a proposal.” he breathes in, swallowing “Let me explain.” 

“Go on” Harrow stabs the sword into the stone 

Viren sighs taking a few steps forward “You are my king…” as he sits down on the bed “But you are also my friend..”

“Your friend…?” Harrow lifts an eyebrow, “...is that all?” he feels the hint of a smile on his lips

“... Yes” he hesitates, he can’t say the words he truly thinks. “Right now I do not come to you as my king…” he looks away, “I think of you as my…” the breath catches in his throat, “...brother…” he stutters. It is the wrong word, not the word he should use but he can’t. 

Harrow leans back, rolling his eyes “I see the problem now. It is that you believe you are special,” he takes Viren by the lapel of his coat, drawing him near. “Better than everyone else, above the laws of this kingdom!” 

“Harrow, please…” he chokes at the grip, taking hold of the king’s wrists. “That’s not what I was saying.. please listen” Viren implores, Please listen to me for once. Harrow ignores his words, as he always does. 

“Assasins are coming to murder me tonight, and you’re wasting what precious time I have left.” he lets go off Viren, pushing him back. The mage catches himself with one hand on the soft bed. 

“No, Harrow, I--” he tries to get the words out, tries to tell Harrow that he is trying to help. His friend is having none of it. 

“Stop!” he clicks his teeth together in anger. “How about, ‘No, Your Highness’” he hits the throne with his fist, rising in the chair, desperation mixed with fury in his eyes. “In fact, let’s try ‘Yes, Your Highness” for a change!” he sinks back down with an annoyed breath, that strong spirit faltering in the face of death.

“Oh are you sure you wouldn’t prefer ‘Your Royal Highness!?’” Viren lets his own aggravation flare. Why can’t Harrow understands that Viren is just trying to save the stubborn man? He leans in closer, sliding forward on the bed. “Your Esteemed Inimitable Majesty’, perhaps?!” 

Harrow stands up to his full height, towering over the dark mage. “I have tolerated your arrogance for too long,” 

Viren flinches back at his words, grinding his teeth 

“--maybe even encouraged it!” he takes a step closer until their knees touch. “But if today is my last day as king, you will know your place!” he glares down on his oldest friend, his once lover. 

Viren feels his anger flare, even more, unable to stand with how close Harrow is. “And where exactly is that place?!” 

Harrow points down to the floor, “Right here.” 

Viren blinks at the gesture, his chest feels tight, fear flashes in his eyes. 

“On… your… knees” Harrow continues

Viren looks at him in shock for a moment before closing his eyes and looking away. His chest is tight, breaths shallow. He has heard those words many times before but never from Harrow. His rage cools into something else, into something cold. He came here to save Harrow but if the King harbors so much disgust towards him and the dark magic. He kneels as Harrow looks down on him as he always has. The man Viren loves and admires always the bright light above his darkness. 

“You are a servant of the kingdom of Katolis” That voice reminds Viren of his place from where he bows. He knows he is a servant to Katolis, this is why he is willing to risk his life for Harrow, to keep that brightness burning for many years to come, for the people if not for himself. 

“You are a servant.” Harrow repeats, Viren grinds his teeth, letting his eyes flutter shut. He sinks deeper into himself, bunching his shoulders trying to appear smaller. His boot touches the box with the snake, he looks at his staff. It would be so easy to use the spell, to save Harrow. He breathes in “I’m sorry, you can hate me when you live” Viren moves quickly, jumping back, grabbing his staff. 

Harrow reaches for his sword. “Viren…” he growls in a warning.” 

The mage ignores his name falling from those beautiful lips. 

Viren breathes in, searching Harrow’s eyes for any compassion, any love but there is only anger. He is risking his life for a man that does nothing more than hate him. “Yas I litnu ekaw ot reven, rebmuls a retne” he says the spells with ease. 

Harrow tries to move before it activates but he does not react fast enough. The dark blast hits him across the brow and the King crumples as his consciousness fades. Viren catches him at the last moment, sinking to the floor with the weight of the armor and the man he loves, gently letting Harrow rest on his lap. 

He brushes Harrow’s hair back from the neck, revealing that fragile pulsing vein. The king’s brow is furrowed in a nightmare, his chest rising with heavy pained breaths. 

Viren hesitates once again. This will be his death. He is giving his life for Katolis to flourish.

“No…” Viren shakes his head. He cares little for the country, it can survive without Harrow. “I am doing this for you old… friend.” he tightens his grip on the body in his arms. He swallows back tears, glancing up at the ceiling. 

“I will take your hate, your disgust for me and I will stand by you. That is my vow, and maybe one day you will see me the same way I see you.” Viren sighs, looking down at the man he has given so much off his life to. runs his hands over that rough sun-kissed skin, a small smile at the mage’s lips and yearning in his heart. He gets closer, kissing those beautiful lips one last time. This is his last day and he will not go without at least doing that. 

He straightens, pulling away with the memory of the kiss on his lips. He looks to the side where the wicker basket sits. Such a small object holding his death and Harrow’s salvation. Viren lifts the lid, the snakes wake from their slumber looking up at him with their strange eyes. He takes hold of the staff he had dropped when catching Harrow, starting yet another spell. “Efil ti gnivig dna gnilliw eth ot ti egnahcxe, luos a evas, luos a ekat” 

He mutters over and over. His vision goes dark, like the deepest night, light barely shining through. It always feels like gazing through the darkest fog-filled night, only with the moon fighting to shine through. 

Viren takes the snakes, one off the heads does not waste a moment before biting into his flesh. The venom starts to turn his skin to stone immediately, drawing in his soul. Viren flinches but does not stop the spell. He takes the other head in his grip, bringing it to the King’s throat. 

The fangs of the snake sink into the soft flesh easily. Viren pushes the magic off the spell into the snake, pulling Harrow’s soul into his body. The snake spasm, cathing fire, turning to ash rapidly. 

The gray of stone starts to spread over the king’s body, engulfing what his friend once was, now nothing but an empty vessel. He is dead. Viren has taken the life of the one who he cared for the most in his long life. 

Viren sits back, feeling exhaustion catch up to him. He feels a tight pain in his chest. the world closes around him

***  
Runaan stops midrun, moments before entering the castle as the moon beckons their power to the surface. The ribbon on his wrist shines. Red slowly spreads through the cloth as it unlocks and falls away. He kneels to pick it up, narrowing his eyes. He whistles for everyone to gather. “Something is wrong” 

Each of them hold the red ribbon symbolizing the death of their target. Did the humans kill their own king? He looks around the confused faces of his brethren. Did Rayla disobey him and went on ahead, she is the only one unaccounted for. He feels a tightness in his chest at the thought off his daughter dying. 

“We will scout the castle but do not engage the enemy unless fully necessary. They are ready for us so stick to the shadows and no needless risks.” he takes out the spelled arrow, tying the red as blood ribbon around the shaft

“If any of you discover Prince Ezran, kill him” he fires it into the sky, brow furrowed with concern. His assassins nod and take off into the night. Moving with caution throughout the forest. 

***

Viren wakes up gasping for air, his mind chasing away nightmares of darkness. He feels his face, his hands wander down to his chest, he feels his heartbeat. Tears start to spill 

“No….” he looks down at the body in his lap, it’s stone eyes closed. Viren scrambles back until he hits the rough edges off the decorative wall 

“I failed…. Harrow… I….” dry sobs build in his throat his chest heaves painful and rhythmic. 

“I killed… he was right…” Viren mumbles, he brushes a hand through his hair. 

“No.. what have I done…” his wide tear-stained eyes look at the window where the moon is rising to its height. “I have to make this look like…” he stands up, his entire body shakes. 

He picks up the staff, his hands are soaked with sweat. It slips out of his grasp. The dark mage closes his eyes. There is much to do and he cannot let his emotions affect his actions, not after this failure. Viren picks it up two more times before he can keep his grip on it.

He towers over Harrow’s body, grinding his teeth. He did everything right with the spell, he has practiced it on countless souls and it always worked. Why did it fail him now, Harrow should have taken control of his body and continued to be King. He told the necessary people, Claudia, what he was planing. They were supposed to help Harrow adjust but it was all for nothing and now he killed the king. This is treason. 

Viren feels his body calm. Grief has no time in survival so he pushes it down. There is only what must be done, there is no time to feel. 

Viren reaches his mind to the power stored in the ancient relic in his grip. His voice shakes and breaks “Namuh eb ot flesruoy evorp dna evil, niaga evom, leets fo traeh, enots fo hself” 

The staff hits the floor with a thud, quiet yet profound, magic spreads over Harrow’s dead body. It moves and shifts, stone grinding as the empty shell stands up. Viren swallows the bile that threatens to rise in his throat at the sight of the abomination he has created. 

“Tsol eht fo noisulli eht emoceb ,taem eht no ekat ,niks eht no ekat ,hself eht ffo enots” he mutters. His knuckles white on the staff. Tears still stream down his cheeks but slowly his voice stops shaking. The golem takes on the illusion, it is real enough if one does not look to close. He waves his staff and the Golem stumbles to the throne. The spell will fade before the morning sun. The stone should return to flesh then. It will be blamed on the elves. Viren just has to keep up the illusion. 

He sighs going to the mirror in the corner of the room. He sets the staff against the wall. He leans heavily on the washbasin, rubbing at his face. 

The water is cold against his palmy skin. It helps to calm his mind , the tears stop. He washes them away, looking up in the mirror. His eyes are red swollen things, filled with pain and guilt. Viren curses, his palm connects with the metal of the sink in a dull thud. It barely hurts past the numb feeling on his soul. This was not supposed to happen. Harrow was supposed to live and Viren was supposed to die. Why is he the one who survived, why does his useless evil husk of a soul deserves to be in the light when Harrow was given to the darkness of death? It is not a fair world, Viren knows, but he thought maybe with dark magic he could change fate just as he has many times before. That he could trade his darkened soul for a righteous one. He is a failure of a friend, a mage and a servant. 

He feels the ball off unquenchable grief rise in his chest, the tightness in his throat, the stinging tears threatening to start again. Viren shakes his head, now is not that time for this. There is a commotion at the door, assassins at the gates and a kingdom on the verge of war without a king. He straightens, squaring his shoulders. He needs to find the strength to stand by Katolis regardless of his petty problems or concerns. Viren turns away from his image, putting on the mask of the archmage of Katolis. The pillar that has supported the throne for decades, it is not time to give up now. He walks to the door, his limp acting up like it hasn’t in several years, not since Sarai’s funeral. 

He hears the voice of his son, followed by the older princes’ voice off desperation. 

“You are not stopping me!” the child’s voice confident and muffled through the hardwood door.

Viren opens it, stopping the child before he can enter, fixing him with a glare. “You should not be here.”

The child does not falter, looking up at him with that defiance they all have at that age. “I know what you did!” his fists tighten. “You stole the egg of the Dragon Prince.” 

Viren blinks, keeping his mask of composure in place. It was a matter of time before someone found out about this but it is too late. With Harrow dea… gone, there is little concern about who knows of what he has done. It is not as though Harrow did not know, no matter how much he lived in denial.

“We found it, and we’re keeping it safe.” he continues. Viren rolls his eyes mentally. How safe can children keep something, it will be dead within the week and it is not a dilemma he is keen on focusing now. 

“We?” he asks with curiosity. Who is the child working with that makes him so confident, are there enemies Viren does not know off in the castle?

“The king will have you in shackles when he finds out about this.” the child speaks with confidence in the king’s character. There is much the child will have to face in time, the truth always surfaces. 

Viren narrows his eyes, how can the young be so foolish. He and Harrow have done worse things than taking the life of an egg. “What makes you so sure he doesn’t already *know?*”  
Viren watches the doubt spread in the little prince’s eyes as he hesitates. He has no time for this. 

“Grab him” he turns to Soren. 

“But he’s the Prince.” Soren hesitates as he always does when following Viren’s word. It makes Viren proud that his son has a mind of his own, Viren has no need for an heir who follows demands without question. 

“Do it!” he orders, letting that anger he always pushes down spill out. The guards listen to his orders while his son continues to show weakness. The Prince tries to run but it is too late.

“Now tell me. Where is the egg!” even if the egg is the last thing on his mind, even if he thinks they will not be able to keep it alive, he can’t let that power die with the kids. They will need everything they can get in the coming war. 

“I’ll call out, I’ll scream.” The child struggles against the guard’s grip. 

“Go ahead” Viren keeps a neutral tired expression, taking out a shriveled claw from his pouch. “Eciov eht laets” the spell works quickly. The Prince gasps as he tries to talk to no avail. 

Viren tries to hold on to the anger, to act with tact but it is too much. He needs to be alone in his grief not dealing with insolent foolish children that need to be put in their place. 

“You impudent little mongrel!” his fist tightens on his staff. “You were spoiled and give everything….” while Harrow would not even look at Viren twice. Some child that is not even blood, getting the attention Viren saught. All those countless moons watching Harrow spoil and coddle his children when he should have been training them for war. “...and that has left you weak and helpless.” He will not let Katolis suffer under another weak king that cannot understand what it means to make a difficult choice. 

“Tonight, your world is changing and there is nothing you or anyone can---” before Viren can finish, he senses something in the tower beyond, he hears the whistle of the wind. The lights extinguish with magic. 

“They’re here!” Soren shouts as an arrow pierces the air. Viren dodges it easily as it embeds in his son’s armor. Viren slowly steps back as the battle heats up, focusing all his energy on the golem. 

He stays to protect his son and to keep the charade but there is no point in risking his life in this battle so he lingers on the outskirts 

He hears the young Prince shout the King’s name, and Viren feels a pang of guilt that he quickly pushes down. There is no time for such emotion. He did what was right. 

The battle does not last long once the elves push past the door. Viren feels his energy falter and the golem falls. The guards dispatch the last of the elves, one being left alive. Viren sinks to his knees in exhaustion. 

“Dad!” Claudia kneels by his side as she runs up the stairs. 

“I’m fine, go I need that last elf alive.” he points to where the guards run after the elf escaping through the open balcony doors. Claudia nods, checking that he is okay again before running off. 

Viren breathes out. His children can handle it from there, he just needs to go to his chambers and rest. He needs to figure out what went wrong with the spell. He should have tested it more, saw that it worked before using it on Harrow. He killed his best friend… he killed the man he loved. He should have found a better way. He closes his eyes, getting up heavily. The pain in his knee is almost unbearable. Tomorrow will be a new day, a new future in a dark age.

***  
Viren wakes hours later, tired and bone-weary. It is still dark outside, the moon shining through the open window. The grief from last night raw and burning. The desk before him is a cluttered mess. After the fight, he had retreated to his study. The child had been telling the truth. The egg is gone and so is the hope for humanity in this war. If the dragon’s get the egg then it is all over. There will be another era under Thunder’s son. 

The pedestal that used to house it is on the floor, covered in papers and shards off the glass. Viren may have let himself unleash his anger on his carefully curated collection off materials. The room is dark, he goes to light a torch but realizes there is some light shining. His eyes wander over the room and settle on the mirror. The blanket he uses to cover it barely blocks the light. He furrows his brow at the light, last time he checked mirrors do not glow. 

He gets out of the chair heavily, the familiar stings off pain shoot through his knee. He ignores the pain just as he always does, throwing aside the cloth covering the mirror. There is a decorated study worthy of royalty just beyond the glass.

He has spent countless months getting it to reveal its secret but now when he is sleeping it activates? Viren wonders what changed. The door to the side of the room opens. The creature that enters is an elf. Viren gasps. His mind wandering away from his guilt over Harrow and the events of the night. This could be the way to find another way to keep humanity safe now that the egg is gone. 

The elf does not stay in the room long, leaving as soon as he entered with a book in his hands. 

“Wait!” Viren calls out. The elf pauses, glancing his way. For a moment he thinks that they can see each other. He leans closer, hands on either side of the mirror. The moment passes as the elf leaves, brushing his hair back under that dark hood.

Viren sighs. There is nothing to do now but wait. There is no answer as to why his spell to save Harrow failed. There is only the war fast approaching. He has to work for the safety of humanity, fight for those who cant. He has to protect Katolis, he has to be the servant Harrow wanted him to be. With him at the limit of his power, perhaps the answer lies in the only thing that the Dragon King and Queen thought to keep by their side. This mirror might hold all that he needs. So he has to wait for the elf to return, perhaps questioning the prisoner that they have captured while he does so. The elven assassin almost certainly has little knowledge Viren can use, or if they do, it is doubtful they will share it. Regardless the question still has to be asked. Viren sets his mind to a new plan, unaware just where this path will lead him, and what future is in store for all of humanity.


	2. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Harrow truly know who Viren is?

Harrow gasps. His eyes flicker open. There is darkness everywhere he can see. The floor around him is white and glowing, filling the darkness with low light. 

He remembers Viren’s concerned guilty face as his consciousness faded. Harrow rubs at his neck where pain lingers. He remembers seeing the desperation in beautiful silver eyes. How his friend had made up his mind, the fear filling every inch of his older friend. The way his body was tense, on edge beyond anything he has seen, it reminded him of when Sarai died. Viren being set on doing something foolish. Something Harrow stopped him from doing then, yet he failed to do the same now. 

Harrow knew that Viren had taken his words to heart and was going to risk his life for the crown. That is not what Harrow wanted… he just wanted Viren to live. The kingdom needs a mage more then it does a King, more then it did a Queen. So he was cruel, he knew just how to hurt and push Viren away. He may have said more then he meant as his anger flared. 

Their last moments together being spent. If only he could see Viren again and apologize that he went too far. Even if some of it was deserved, the mage is not above testing everyone's patience. Harrow sighs, whatever this place is, it must be some dark magic. 

“What did you do now, Viren?” he asks the empty space, his voice echoes. Harrow’s attention is caught by more light blooming in the distance, slowly getting bigger. He watches as it spreads, the darkness seems to hiss and shrink away. 

The light gets bigger with every moment until Harrow can see a familiar ceiling. The lights seem to blink out for a long moment then the room seems to tip as it comes into focus. Harrow knows it as Viren’s bedroom. If one can call it that. It is the guest room where the man barely spends time. 

“Am I… What did you do Viren?” he asks again in disbelief. watching as the man moves around. Those familiar hands leaning on the basin filled with water. When he looks up can see Viren’s tired face staring back. 

Those eyes are red and swollen. Deep black circles framing those tired features, his illusion fading and the dark magic form leaking through. Harrow has seen it before many times and it never ceases to unnerve him. The mage's lips are cracked and dry. His hair is disheveled and it does not look like he slept well. Harrow wonders if Viren spent most of the night crying. 

“Oh, old friend…” Harrow sighs. “Viren! Can you hear me!?” 

The image slowly pans across the room. 

The mage blinks in the mirror, turning his head to glance around the empty room, the man sighs. “Get ahold of yourself Viren, Harrow is gone” 

“Viren! I’m right here!” he yells louder. 

The mage rubs at his face, turning back to the mirror. “He’s dead…” 

Harrow looks around. There must be something to get his attention in this empty darkness. Anything to let Viren hear him. Harrow turns away from the vision, maybe if he walks far enough he will be able to find something. This place can’t go on forever. The image of what Viren sees does not go away as Harrow walks. 

***

The mage gets dressed in his official robes. Harrow smirks, there were mornings he liked to tease Viren at just how many layers he wore. It always made Viren turn bright red. The rare times the man was flustered was in the mornings before he quite woke up all the way.

Harrow loved those times when the mask the mage always wears was not quite there when they could just be together and honest. It was not a time that would last long as the morning ends before responsibility catches up. 

They have not talked as they used to in a while. He wonders when that changed. The light of the image disappears suddenly. Harrow stops. The darkness around him ripples and figures start to appear, he hears voices just out of earshot. 

The figures slowly start to solidify, the room forming around him. Harrow recognizes it as his own bedroom. The door slams open as a bloody, dust-covered apparition of himself walks past.

Harrow recognizes this day. It was the day they lost Sarai, the day his world ended. Viren enters… 

“Harrow… you shouldn’t be alone right now…” the mage says softly. Harrow in the present flinches as that image of him turns on the mage, throwing his sword and armor down heavily. He feels fear shoots through his body and he knows it is not his own. 

Viren’s apparition looks down for a split second, Harrow had not noticed it in the heat of the moment. 

“I would not be alone now!” his apparition yells. “This is all your fault! All of it is you!” 

Harrow doubles over as he feels the anxiety and the pain Viren felt on that day. Loud thoughts sound in his head. ‘*I know! She should have never saved me! She should be here and I should be dead!*’ 

But Viren did not say anything of that to Harrow back then. Maybe if Harrow heard Viren’s true thoughts he would not blame the mage. Instead, Viren chose to be pragmatic and brief him on the spell, to hide all emotion. Which only made Harrow hate him more at the moment. 

The vision off the past starts to shift again. The sky is dark, rain falls on the ground. Harrow cannot feel it. He looks around, not recognizing this place. He hears the quiet sniffling of a child. It is coming from under some boxes. 

Harrow walks toward them, kneeling to glance in. Inside is a young child, a hand over his mouth as he cries. He clutches a book, blood swirls in the rain around him as it flows from several cuts.

Harrow steps back, his head passing through the boxes instead of hitting them. He knows this day, this was the day he had met Viren. 

“You brat! Where are you!?” a loud voice shouts. Viren tries to muffle his fearful cries in the heavy book he clutches. Harrow watches as the man with raw anger looks around frantically, his boots splashing through the mud. 

“I know you are here! This is the last time I let you get away with your useless life!” 

Harrow hears young Viren whimper again. The man hears him too. He kicks the boxes, sending the shelter in which the child was hiding across the cobblestones.

Harrow can feel his anger rise as the man grabs the child by the throat. Harrows hands go through the vision and he curses. Viren had never told him just what happened on this day. 

“This is all your fault you fucking brat!” the man throws the child down. Viren coughs, struggling to stand up. His book falls open to strange writing, getting soaked with rain. The young man looks at it with wild eyes before glancing up at the man who is hurting him, resistance in his eyes. “No…. It’s not my fault! She… she died by accident!” Viren stands up with defiance. 

Harrow feels his fists tighten at his side, cursing that he can't help and that this is only a memory. 

“That’s fucking bullshit you little bastard. You are the man of the house! You were supposed to protect her!” 

“I was six!” Viren shouts, waving his thin arms in annoyance. The man hits him across the face. The child goes sprawling. Harrow flinches as he hears his teeth hit the cobbles. Young Viren does not give up, pushing to his feet. He picks up the book, flipping it open in his hand. 

Harrow feels that raw anger of the boys ease into a calm mind, a mask sliding off his features. He breathes out. That mask so familiar to Harrow. It is what Viren often settles into when they argue, a wave of cold pragmatic anger. 

The man goes in for another hit, Viren dodges it. He looks at the book in his arms. “Dloh ekat ,srorret fo peels ,smaerd ffo peels.” he casts the spell. The vision snaps and disappears. 

Harrow feels tears in his eyes. This must have been the first time Viren had done dark magic. 

The visions start to appear again. A small cottage with a brightly burning fire. Viren kneels by a bed covered with a white blanket that has seen better days. “I’m sorry I was gone so long mom, I ran away but I think I finally found a way to bring you back.” 

Harrow narrows his eyes, under the blanket, he sees a dirt-covered almost skeletal hand barely hidden by the fabric. “Oh no… Viren…” He tries to lay a hand on the boy's shoulder, to stop him, to hold him close. His hand passes through the conjured memory. 

The boy opens the book.“Tsol saw ecno tahw kcab gnirb ,luos eht evig ,daed eht esiar.” he repeats over and over. His hair slowly turns white, his eyes turn black, the skin starts to crack and break, purple fluid starts to leak out of those cracks. 

Harrow watches in terror as the white blanket moves and shifts, as the body twitches. He feels his stomach tighten and twist as the once-dead body starts to rise. The blanket falls away. Harrow’s chest spasms as he dry heaves. The body, or what’s left off it stumbles. Viren never stops his spell as he backs up, tears streaming down his face, pure terror in his eyes. 

The creature does not last long. Harrow wipes away the spittle on his lips as his stomach stops twisting. The thing that used to be the boy’s mother falls to the ground dissolving into the dark liquid. 

Viren sinks to his knees and then the memory snaps, leaving only that endless darkness. 

Harrow sighs. It seems Viren has not told him many things about his past. The king never pushed but maybe he should have, maybe things would be different now. 

He remembers that storming night, a storm that came out of nowhere. He was out with his father on a hunting trip and they were just returning when he saw Viren stumbling through the street. He looked empty and broken, as though his very soul was gone. Harrow now understands why, no child should go through that. 

He had walked in front of their horses and collapsed, clutching that book of spells. Harrow’s father had recognized the signs of dark magic immediately. They took the boy on their horses, gave him a blanket and the rest was history. Viren never spoke of that night or much of his origins. Harrow had always wondered and now he knows and wishes he did not, while also wishing he knew earlier. 

Voices whisper all around and the view of the outside world flickers to life again. Harrow looks up from his spinning thoughts to see Soren. That boy always knew how to lift anyone's spirits and bring humor to the situation. 

“No idea what nuance is” 

Harrow laughs at that. He can hear the impatience in Viren’s voice. “Listen closely” There is a cold edge disguising guilt. “You are to return with the terrible news that the princes have perished.” 

Harrow feels ice go through his entire soul. 

“Wait…?” Soren frowns. “Excuse me?” he stands straight. 

Harrow feels his fists tighten against his side. The guilt over not caring more for Viren’s past dissolves. 

“I think my head was upside down and it got sort of mixed up?” Soren runs a hand through the back of his hair. “Can you say that again?”

Harrow narrows his eyes, hoping that Viren did not mean it. He can’t mean it. Sure they had their disagreements but the children have nothing to do with this. It must be a misunderstanding. 

“You are to return with the terrible news that both princes’ have died,” Viren repeats with more certainty. 

Harrow hears his heartbeat in his ears, all of a sudden this strange space seems to lack air. He gasps painfully as his very soul aches. 

“So hold up, If we return with the news that the princes have died…” Soren continues, either not understanding or not wanting to believe. 

The light around Harrow starts to swirl, cutting through the darkness as his emotions turn to bright hot anger. 

“... won’t that mean we failed?” he looks at his father with confusion and concern. 

“The coming war will determine the fate of humanity,” Viren says with certainty. Harrow can feel the grief that Viren is pushing down but he ignores it. This man, this creature that he thought he could trust would turn so easily. This man he was starting to understand, to feel concern for with those memories is betraying him at the first chance. 

Harrow can barely hear anything the man says past his roaring pulsing heart pushing blood and rage through his body. 

“Deadly accidents… happen all the time” 

Those words echo across the dark space. 

Harrow closes his eyes, grinding his teeth. “VIREN!” his light pushes the darkness farther back.   
“VIREN, I WILL END YOU!” He screams, a shock wave ripples across the thick darkness. tendrils of light spread and take hold of it. Pushing that shifting mass down more and more. 

****

Viren gasps as a sudden pain shoots through his skull. He doubles over, falling to his knees. 

“Dad? What's wrong?” Soren kneels worried. 

Viren’s eyes go black with tendrils of white shifting and spreading. He groans as the pain spreads through every fiber, he feels like he is losing control. He gasps. A familiar voice rings through his skull. 

“Harrow...?” That is his last words as he loses consciousness. 

“Dad?!” Soren catches his father, unsure of what happened. 

***  
Light. That is the first thing Viren sees. There is a bright light as far as he can see, it hurts his eyes. There is only a small circle of purple swirling darkness around his feet. He tries to take a step but the light burns him. He is wearing his clothing, but it is unstable and unsure, his entire body looks as though it will dissolve at any moment. Viren recognizes this place as a mental space. 

He heard Harrow’s voice before losing consciousness. He assumes that he is now locked in his own body. The spell must have worked, just at a delayed reaction. He breathes out the tension in his soul, that means Harrow is alive. The light pushes in on his darkness with little tendrils. It is not long before the strength of Harrow’s soul will destroy him. Viren sits down, holding his knees tight, two souls cannot share the same body after all. He was ready for this when he cast the spell so there is no room for fear. He will disappear in peace knowing that Harrow is alive. 

He closes his eyes. If only he could see the man again, just for one last time. 

“Viren….” a voice echoes. The dark mage does not seem to hear it, letting the bright light engulfed him. “Viren…!” the voice echoes again. “Open your eyes!” it shouts. 

Viren feels power surge through his body. He opens his eyes in confusion. There is a border of swirling purple between him and the white light. 

“Good. I will ...not have you give up yet.” It whispers. The voice sounds familiar, he feels he should know it. 

The voice chuckles. “Have you forgotten me already?” 

Viren gets up with a newfound strength. The air in front of him distorts, the swirling purple spreads and condenses into the elf in the mirror. 

“Aaravos…” he mumbles. They had the deal only moments before he had confronted Soren. Long enough to exchange blood to connect their souls through that strange caterpillar. The elf promising a way to explain his spell went wrong but now there is no need. “What do you want?” He presses. 

The elf chuckles. “We are bound. I will not let you die so easily, my dear.” 

Viren crosses his arms. “Why?” What reason could and elf have to help a human. There is no doubt that he just wants to use Viren just as everybody has his whole life. 

“Do you need a reason to live?” Aaravos moves closer with a smile. “Do you not have children, friends, those you care for?” He points behind Viren, the mage looks up at where his daughter seems to be arguing about something in the throne room. He cannot hear their voices. If he dies they will be alone. Their mother was never one for being attached to her children. 

“I do, but that does not change the fact that Harrow needs to live for the good off the Kingdom.” he sighs, grinding his teeth and looking down. 

Aaravos looks away for a moment. “Always giving more then you have… at least some things do not change.” 

Viren narrows his eyes. The elf since the first day they saw each other has hinted that he knew the mage but never answering any off the questions Viren has. 

Aaravos glances up again. “I have a proposition so you do not have to lose your life. If you trust me” he holds out his hand. 

Viren swallows, looking back at his beautiful daughter. She is fighting for him, tears running through her makeup. He knows she will find a way to save him or run herself into the ground doing so. 

Viren breathes out. This is not a choice. He takes a step forward. He searches the elf's eyes for deceit but other then the mischievous glint of his smile Viren sees nothing. So he takes the offered hand, He feels power surge through him and the light of Harrow’s soul is pushed back more so he has room to move. 

“Good. I will be here as we move forward.” Aaravos looks out on the throne room, Viren follows his glance. Claudia is led away by Soren, crying in his arms. 

“What is your plan?” Viren looks back but the elf is gone. He sighs, sitting down to look up at the image of the outside world. There is nothing to do but wait once again. Harrow will not be able to hear him, not in his anger that Viren feels just outside his bubble of safety. 

***  
Harrow leans back heavily on the throne as he watches Claudia run away. Her heartbroken face will haunt his dreams for many years to come. He has taken her father in his rage. It is the same old story, the same revenge, and the same anger. Harrow just hopes the child will not do something foolish. He does not plan to be around long enough to see if she does. 

Harrow took the time to write letters to anyone who grieved his death. He knows that his sons have the dragon egg and are on the way to make up for the mistakes of their elders. Another thing Viren had hidden from him, another way that the dark mage has brought suffering with that cursed skill set. The egg was supposed to be destroyed, Harrow is not sure keeping it alive is better, he worries for the quest his children undertake. He should have never let Viren have as much power as he did. Dark Magic was never the answer. 

Harrow knows this, even more, armed with Viren’s memories, while tragic does not change that all this is the fault of dark magic, it is all the fault of the man whose body he now inhabits. Harrow knows he cannot risk staying on the throne or anywhere near Katolis if he is going to be a risk to them by Viren taking back control. He has sent for Amaya to return and serve as Queen Regent in his absence. The breach is on the brink of war but Commander Gren with the help of Corvus can handle it in her stead. 

She is supposed to arrive within the week then Harrow can leave. He is not sure where he will go but out of Katolis will be a good start. 

He rubs at his brow. “Viren?” he whispers low. Maybe the mage is in the same strange plane he was. 

***  
Viren hears his name echo in that strange plane. “Is that you, elf?” his eyes scan the distance, the apparition does not appear. 

“I know you are there, old friend… we have to talk.” Harrow close his eyes. 

Viren recognizes the voice of his king. He stands up. “Sdrow ym deeh ,eciov ym raeh,” he mutters a spell. The darkness spreads farther in the light before it is pushed down to the purple barrier again. Harrow is stronger than him. 

“I… do not think we have anything to say.” Viren looks down, cradling his elbow with one arm. he knows what he did in desperation was wrong. He knows he is to be punished for it so he will not make excuses. He was going to do what was necessary and he will never apologize for that. 

“Don’t we!? You tried to kill my children!” Harrow shouts standing upon the throne. The light around Viren gets brighter, lashing out against the barrier. 

“I will not deny it. Your children bring doom to all of us with their foolish quest and they needed to be stopped!” Viren nods with conviction. Thoughts echo all around him ‘Useless… your fault… shortcut… killed me…’ He tries to tune them out. 

Harrow grinds his teeth against the white-hot anger building in his chest. “I always held hope that there was something good in you.” Harrow sighs. “I saw how hard you worked to save anyone with your magic but it has corrupted.” He digs his thumb into his palm. “You are no longer the man I knew.” 

“You have never seen me as who I am Harrow. You always see the ideal in everyone, not the reality.” Viren turns away, he does not want to see through Harrow's eyes. He can feel the waves off disappointment and anger all around. If not for the barrier it would be too much. 

Harrow scoffs. “Perhaps I was a foolish child to hope in your character.” The king says in anger before deflating back on his throne. “You have stood by me for decades. If not for the dark magic you would have never risked my children's lives. 

“Harrow! I would! The magic is a tool, it is not who I am!” Viren tries to insist. Sure the magic makes his entire body hurt, and change his body in unpredictable ways but he has been like this since he was a child. Always the pragmatist. 

“You do not understand, you never do Viren,” Harrow repeats the words he is so fond of saying. Viren is never sure what he does not understand. 

“Tell me what you think I do not understand!” he screams, the black oily shadows spread past the purple shield in his anger. Their souls fighting each other for dominance. 

Harrow ignores his plea. “Do not worry, I will stand for you, I will find a way to make you what you once were.” *My friend* echoes throughout the mind space. 

Viren is about to argue, his eyes catch a purple shimmering shape. The elf solidifies. He puts a finger on his lips. “Shh,” he gestures Viren to move closer. The mage is confused and suspicious. He gets closer to the elf. 

Aaravos smiles. He leans forward. Viren shivers at the breath on his neck. “We must go to Lux Aurea, tell him you know of a way to help you in the land of the elves,” he whispers in a barely audible gasp. “Trust me, it is the way to get everything you desire.” 

Viren wishes to question but Harrow will hear. He takes deep breaths. The choice before him is to trust Harrow, a man who wants to change him into the image of what he believes Viren is, something that has never be true or trust the elf. This Aaravos has been more accepting of Viren, of his dark magic. They have only just met but the discussions they held through that mirror were what Viren could hold on too. The elf seemed to genuinely listen to him, unlike anybody has in a long time. 

Aaravos has his own plans just like anybody but he does not seek to change Viren as a person, to make him hide who he is. 

That fact is what is different and new. Viren breathes in. His decision made.   
“If that is your wish, my king.” bitterness snakes through his words. “I have heard off a place in the far off lands of Xadia that could hold the solution you wish.”

Surprise washes through the mental plane. Harrow did not expect Viren to supply help so readily. Yet it is what the mage has always done so he should not be that surprised. 

Viren continues, sensing every thought and mood that goes through Harrow’s mind, so speech is largely unnecessary. Aaravos takes him by the waist, whispering in his ear. The mage repeats it word for word. 

“In the golden city of Lux Aurea, where the Sunfire elves dwell in their shining castles in the center off all Primal Sun magic.” Viren starts to understand as he repeats. “That stone is rumored to be able to purify even the darkest magic. It holds the salvation you seek.” Viren feels his stomach turn, looking at Aaravos. What does this elf have planned, how does he knows what purifies dark magic? Is he lying, why does he need them to go to the Primal source? 

Harrow laughs. The joy that Viren does not share filling the space. “Yes! We will leave for Xadia as soon as Amaya returns from the breach!” Harrow says with conviction. 

The elf laughs in mischievous glee, before disappearing. Viren is left standing alone in the cold light, concern heavy on his soul.


	3. Belief

The thundering sound of hooves fills the courtyard. Amaya jumps down from her horse with ease. She has traveled from the breach alone when she got a letter from Harrow. It was thought he was dead and gone. It makes her suspicious if anything. She walks through the courtyard with purpose, heading straight for the throne room. 

Harrow looks up as the door slams shut. “Amaya!” He stands up with a wide grin, throwing aside the scroll. 

She narrows her eyes, “What the fuck is the meaning of this Viren?” she signs quickly. 

“Uh… right it’s a long story.” he signs right back. 

Amaya lifts an eyebrow, knowing well that Viren can barely sign beyond simple gestures. 

“Explain.” She signs and crosses her arms with a nod. 

Harrow squints, making sure he moves his hands in the right way as he talks. “See, when the assassin came, Viren…” he points at his new body. “... used the soulfang serpents to transfer my soul into his body and so now I am stuck like this.” 

Amaya frowns then shrugs. “I can roll with that. What happened to Viren?” 

“Still here, though he went quiet right now.” Harrow signs with the strange unfamiliar hands that he has only just gotten used to in the several days since his death. 

Amaya nods again. She heard that Viren had wanted to kill the princes and a concerned expression makes way into a crease on her brow. “What now?” 

Harrow sighs. He steps back to the throne. He picks up the symbol of Katolis, a small trinket yet so saught after through the ages. The crown feels cold in his hands. “Now, we crown you queen.” he holds out the simple metal circlet. Amaya looks at it with disgust. 

“The ceremony is tonight but I will be leaving before it happens.” he puts the crown down, not sure why he picked it up in the first place. 

“Leaving? Why” She signs quickly. Harrow was never one to hide or run. 

“Viren is still in this body.” he pauses with yet another sigh. “He still thinks in extremes and I cannot have him be anywhere where the boys are.” Harrow shakes his head in disdain, still bitter over Viren’s decision. “So I have to find a way to help him.”

Amaya nods then shakes her head. “Help him? How many times do I have to tell you, Harrow, that man is beyond help.” She scoffs. “I never saw what you and sister found so endearing about the bastard.” she flicks him off. Still not comfortable with that face, the face responsible for her sister's death. 

“Amaya please, we owe him at least this much, he sacrificed his life to save me. So please take the throne and protect our kingdom until Ezran can take the throne until I can return?” he swallows as he finishes signing. His hands continue to feel uncomfortable but nimble. 

Amaya sighs then nods. “Fine but I do not have to like it. As soon as you can take the throne, return and support your sons!” she clicks her heels with finality. 

Harrow nods. “I will. Take care of the throne for me, sister.” He takes the steps down from the throne, walking away, not looking back. His mind shifting to the journey for Xadia. He is alone and it will not be easy. Viren always had his way of getting into the elven lands alone and returning unharmed, maybe there is an answer in his study. Harrow sets his path through the castle towards the dungeons. 

***  
Viren watches as Harrow opens the familiar wooden door that leads to his study. The door he has walked through many times, barely pausing to think. Never even stopping to think that there would be a day when he would never pass through those doors. Harrow pauses at the center of the room, his eyes traveling up to that painting. 

The simple days when they were happy when they were a family of three and their children were still young. When there was no war, no enemy. When each day they did not starve and worry about the future of humanity. The short-lived peace they all remember fondly. 

Viren blinks, the strange void around him starts to shift. The view off his study disappears. “Harrow?” he asks, there is no response. Harrow has not been able to hear him since that first day so Viren did not have much hope in answer. The undulating surroundings start to stabilize into the castle royal chambers, where Sarai used to live before her passing. The door opens quickly as Harrow bursts through the doors, anger raw on his face. 

Sarai looks up from where she sharpens her spear with an unreadable expression. That woman always proved to be a mystery to Viren in those early days. He closes his eyes, the grief Viren has fought so hard to suppress and hide surfaces raw and painful. Tears form at the edge of his eyes. It was his fault she died, he can barely look at her image in the many paintings around the castle. Seeing her face to face again is shaking him to the core. 

“Viren….” a voice whispers. He shakes his head, he does not want to hear his name. Viren just wants to sink hide.  
“Be strong…” the feel of an invisible touch around his hand. Viren takes it, wanting comfort. He slowly opens his eyes, he thinks he sees that strange elf at his side for a brief moment before the memory sucks him back in. 

“Pregnant, Sarai! This isn’t, this wasn’t…” Harrow paces. 

Viren feels his chest tighten, he remembers this day. It was the day he told Harrow the truth none of them wanted to hear. Viren’s wife had just left him a few short months ago and he sought comfort where perhaps he should not have. They had moved on, each off them had obligations, expectations to reach. 

“Calm down. Who’s pregnant?” Sarai sets aside her spear, not unnerved by her husband's panic. He tends to overreact. 

“Viren!” he gestures, sitting down with an exasperated sigh. 

Sarai lifts an eyebrow “Again? How does that man even get anything done.” she laughs it off. 

Harrow clears his throat, “Well you know his wife left him, and he was a mess…” he hesitates, his collar is to tight suddenly. “and well… we sorta…. did it” he makes a gesture in emphasis. 

Sarai blinks, amusement behind her eyes. “That’s what you are freaking out about. Please, Harrow. I did not expect you to leave Viren when we married, that was your choice.” 

“But…” he starts. Sarai gets up, sitting down on the bed next to him. 

“Listen to me, Harrow. You have been friends since childhood, he was… is someone that matters to you, and I would not be your wife if I denied that.” she kisses him on the cheek gently, running her thumb over his beard. 

Harrow sighs. “I may have made a mistake.” he looks away from Sarai’s brown eyes that can make a man weak just with one mischievous glance. Those eyes that now have a cold edge. “What did you do Harrow?” her voice as cold steel. 

Viren digs his nails into the soft palm of his skin. He does not want to keep watching this, he does not want to remember the past, especially not this day. 

Harrow brushes his hair back, leaning away from Sarai’s touch. “I yelled at him for… the news. I was…” Harrow sighs, guilt raw on his face. 

“You were cruel.” Sarai supplies. “You will go apologize now!” she crosses her arms. 

“Sarai! I ca---!” he stands up to face her,

“Don’t you Sarai me!” she cuts him off. “Go apologize to Viren now, before he does something both off you regret!” she shouts. 

Viren flinches from where he stands, this is why Harrow found him again that day… he feels tears drip down his cheeks. If it was a few moments sooner. 

The images of the past start to ripple and dissolve, the study comes into view. Viren knows this as his memory. The neatly stacked potions and herbs on the table, a magic flame burning below a cauldron.

“Don’t do it…” Viren mutters to his past self. He still regrets this day, and he always will. The image of his past swirls a liquid in a glass vial. He was always decisive and stubborn, he wishes he was different on this day.

There was the kingdom to think of, not to mention his children who just had their mother walk out on them, there was Harrow’s marriage to Sarai. It was just not a good time for him to carry a child, no matter how much he wanted it. That’s why earlier he had gone to Harrow to see if he would accept the child, and Viren as part of the family but all he was met with was anger. It is not something that he would subject the child to. He has his fun with Harrow but a family when they do not truly love each other was impossible. The potion in the vial swirls, changing colors to single it is ready. 

Viren did not cry back then, he did not allow himself to cry over loss back then. As he watches, his body starts to shake, he crosses his arms at his heart in an attempt to lessen the pain. Viren wants just to take his past self and tell him that this is the one mistake he has made in his life. But those are nothing but useless dreams, the memory takes the vial and tips it back, drinking all of it. 

Viren still remembers the taste, bitter and filled with burning guilt and regret.

The door to the study opens then with a loud thud. The vial shatters on the floor. Harrow crosses the room with quick steps, pulling Viren into a hug. The mage struggles, he was never one for sudden touches even if that is all he wanted from Harrow. Viren does not remember the words he uttered back then, or if he did. 

“Viren, I’m sorry. I should not have yelled at you, this is our child and I will…” 

“Harrow!” the memory screams, Viren hears the pain, it sends shivers down his spine, making his legs weak. He sinks to the floor, just wanting it all to end. 

“Viren, it's alright! I talked to Sarai and she said---” he smiles, holding out the mage at arm's length. The mage pushes him aside. 

“It is too late! I…” he sighs, brushing his hair back. “What I did was for the best.” his past self nods down at the shattered vial. 

Harrow furrows his brow. “What do you mean, what did you do Viren?” 

That phrase ‘*What did you do Viren*’, he has heard it so many times, it was one of the last things Harrow said to him on his death day. Those words were always filled with disappointment and blame. In some ways, it reminded Viren of his father. 

“The child is dead Harrow, and it will not happen again.” the past self turns away, a cold mask on his face.

Viren can see as Harrow’s spirit shatters at those words, his arms drop. They were never the same after that, and Viren made sure that he was never with the child again with that simple tincture. He grew to regret it after the loss they suffered with Sarai's loss and Harrow needed something to grasp on to. 

Perhaps that was the moment when Harrow truly started to hate Viren. If one could go back to change the past, but alas there is only the future forever approaching. 

Harrow backs away, leaving Viren there alone with his soul breaking slowly with regret. The memory snaps and fades as the young king slams the door shut behind him. 

Viren lets himself breathe, tears stream down his cheeks and his entire body shakes. He tries to keep his cries down but it is so much harder to control his emotions in this strange space. 

“I know the loss of a child, even by your hand can be painful.” a smooth voice rings out over Viren’s quiet sounds of distress. The mage freezes, swallowing his tears. He shakes his head, wiping away the streaks on his cheeks. 

“You do not have to hide your tears.” Aaravos solidifies in that white void just past the barrier protecting Viren from Harrow's light. 

Viren clears his throat, pushing down the grief and pain the memory brought back. “I am fine. It was a logical choice at the time.” he feels his mask fall into place. 

Aaravos tips his head to the side, his ears twitch. His eyes search Viren’s gaze with raw curiosity. “Hmmm… you have always been a curious soul.” 

“Always?” Viren narrows his eyes. 

Aaravos just smiles. 

The silence stretches. Viren has so many questions for the elf, but he knows there will be no answers. It is useless to waste his breath. The elf’s image fades away. 

The view of the outside world slowly comes into focus again. Harrow seems to be sitting on the desk. Viren curses as he sees his documents, his neatly sorted desk in disarray from being searched. 

In those familiar calloused hands is a tome, one he is very familiar with. Viren feels his heart jump to his throat. It is his diary, filled with all his thoughts. It is written in code and backward so it is unlikely Harrow will be able to read it but that light panic is there. 

Harrow sets it aside as he fails to make sense of it. The study has almost nothing that makes it feel like Viren. There are Claudia’s shoes in one corner, Soren’s old toys stacked in a chest. The neat desk hiding the journal but everything else is about the kingdom. Harrow had never thought about it too much, never asked where Viren lived. He had the study but that was the only place he claimed as his own, and even then it feels impersonal. 

There were times when Viren would collapse in Harrow’s bed and they would just hold each other on bad days, but that was rare. Where did Viren spend the rest of his time when he was not here at the castle. Where did he sleep? Harrow swallows, looking down at his new body, at Viren’s body. “Viren…?” he whispers low. 

It is quiet for a moment then like a whisper breaking through the fog. “Yes… Harrow?” Viren hesitates, does he even deserve to say his name anymore. He ha, after all,l betrayed everything Harrow stood for after his death, even if most of his ideas are foolish. They are what make the king who he is. 

“Where did you stay when not in the castle?” he runs his hands over those tight muscles under his coat. 

“Why do you want to know now of all times?” Viren’s voice falters in his mind, it seems weaker than it was before. Harrow can barely hear him. 

“I never asked, I know, not since…” he can’t say Sarai’s name, even here in Viren’s study, he is reminded of her. The three of them had many chats sitting around this very table together. 

“Then it does not matter…” Viren trails off. Harrow does not need to know. His home is a small cottage close to the sea, a days ride from the castle. It is somewhere he can keep everything that is not saved in the castle, a place where he can get away from court. Claudia is the only other soul who knows where it is. 

“It does matter!” Harrow gestures with those pale fingers. “Viren, please. I want to know you, to help you.” 

Viren sighs. “It is too late Harrow, I gave you plenty of chances to know me, instead you….” his voice trails off. 

“Viren?” Harrow pushes away from the desk, worry blooming in his chest. 

“Harrow… just live your life… stop wasting your time on me….” his voice gets even weaker. “I should have died instead of Sarai… this is just my fate…” 

“No! Viren that's not---” Harrow wishes he could face the mage, to hold him. 

“Is it not?! She went back for me and Thunder took her life! It should have been me!” he shouts. 

“No… that’s not what Sarai would have wanted. She loved you just as much as she did me.” Harrow smiles thinking of her. 

“Please, I was only needed for the spell, there was no love between us.” Viren’s voice starts to fade again. 

“You are such an idiot! Of course, there was, we both loved you! We both cared for you!” Harrow kicks at the floor in his annoyance. 

“Loved,” Viren says simply. 

“What?” Harrow furrows his brow, the word sounds wrong, he will never sound like himself again. 

“That's the keyword, Harrow, you loved me, you cared for me. That is the past. Stop holding on.” Viren does not believe it, he holds on to the past just as much as the next man. Harrow does not need to know that. The mage hopes his mind is disciplined enough to keep Harrow from guessing his thoughts. 

“That’s not…” Harrow sighs, knowing just how stubborn his best friend is. He sinks against the desk. “I still love you…” he mutters quietly

“Then prove it, Harrow, you want me to believe you so bad, then you can do something for me.” Viren thinks of the elf. 

“What?” Harrow narrows his eyes. He may want to help the man but that does not mean he will trust his demands. 

Viren senses that suspicion going in waves through Harrow’s soul. “It is simple. In the dungeons, in my workshop is a jar. I need you to get it.” 

“What is in this jar?” Harrow is sure it’s more magic bullshit he won't understand. 

“It is my familiar, it is connected to my soul. If you want to help me in Xadia, it has to be there.” Viren says with conviction even if it is only a half-truth. 

Harrow runs a hand over his dreadlocks, sitting up against the desk. “Fine. If this helps you understand that I do care for you, regardless of your actions.” He goes to the painting. “We will cure you of that curse of dark magic and everything will be fine” Harrow is set in his conviction. Viren grinds his teeth. The elf’s image comes into focus. His hand lingers a moment from touching if only he was not an illusion

“There is nothing wrong with your magic Lil’ mage. It is no curse, it never has been in all our lifetimes..” he smiles. 

It puts Viren at ease. “I know.” He sighs. He knows but Harrow does not, will he ever be accepted by the man he loves. The king walks down the weaving corridors of the dungeons behind the painting. Viren knows even with how much time they spent together, even though he gave his life, acceptance is but a dream. Especially now that he has threatened the lives of the young princes. They have no hope. Viren breathes out, they may have no hope or future but he cannot just let himself let go of these feelings that ache in his chest even now. 

He fears what the future holds for them, somehow Viren suspects he will have to make even more sacrifice for Harrow’s sake before this is over.


	4. Alone

Harrow looks over the courtyard with a focus. This will be the last time he sees the castle, he sees his home, for a very long time. He decided not to pack much, the journey into Xadia is a treacherous one, being weighed down will not make it easier. He has some food that Barius packed for him, Viren’s staff among other assorted supplies one could need. 

The thing that worries him the most is that strange caterpillar in a glass container that Viren insisted on bringing. It does not make much sense to Harrow but dark magic never did. If Viren says the caterpillar is part of how he can get help in Lux Aurea then he will take it and get the answer of what it is later.

“Harrow.” the distinct voice of Amaya’s translator calls. He looks up. Amaya waves at him. “Be careful, and bring back souvenirs.” 

He laughs “Sure I’ll make sure the elves pack you something extra nice.” 

She flips him off. “Go, already!” 

He shakes his head and turns away, spurring his horse forward not daring to glance back, lest he changes his mind.

Harrow lets his thoughts wander, the ride will be long before they reach the first town where he can resupply and it is the first time he has gone anywhere alone, even if Viren is there in a sense. The mage has been quiet since yesterday night. Harrow feels the heat build in his stomach just thinking about the events of the last few days. He pushes those memories down, focusing on the road instead. 

Viren sighs. He sits across the elf, legs crossed. While Harrow had gotten ready for the journey they had spoken at length. Aaravos is not one for offering answers but he is easy to talk to and Viren has found the time to pass quickly even without the need for sleep in the mind space. 

“So that's how you killed Thunder? I am truly impressed, that is quite the feat.” Aaravos drawls, smiling at Viren, leaning back. 

“So I wanted to ask you… what is your plan? What will happen to me?” Viren asks carefully, maybe if he will ask about himself, the elf will find it okay to answer. 

Aaravos sighs, leaning back, looking up at the swirling sky of the mind space. “There is a small chance of death, the ceremony can be painful. Should you impress me again and survive, the power you will gain will be beyond anything you have felt before.” he tips his head to look at Viren. The elf’s beautiful grin is wide and mysterious. His white hair flowing in waves down his bare chest. 

Viren clears his throat, a blush building on his face. “What power?" he narrows his eyes. "What is in it for you?” he asks again for the dozenth time. Aaravos shakes his head. 

“You will know it all in due time, my friend.” the elf leans forward. That smile is starting to annoy Viren. 

“Give me something! I have not told Harrow of your half-truths!” he gestures. “So tell me something or I will get Harrow to just squash that strange little thing” 

Aaravos thinks for a moment. “Freedom ...and perhaps family, that is what I am doing this for.” 

Family? He did not think the elf had a family, his soul feels ancient enough to have outlived kingdoms and generations. That is not what Viren asks, he does not want to know the answer to that. If the elf has a family there is less place for him, just as it was with Harrow and Sarai. “Freedom? Are you trapped?” 

“Yes, by that same dragon you have brought to heel, Azomondius, a true beast.” Aaravos spits in disgust. 

Viren tilts his head. “Why would he trap a skilled elf such as yourself?” 

Aaravos grimaces, “That is a story I am not ready to tell.” he closes his eyes for a moment. That signature smile starts to creep back, he opens his eyes. “Why don’t you tell me of the depth of your relationship with this King.” Aaravos gestures. 

Viren stutters, clearing his throat. “There is not much to tell, what we had, it's over.” Viren bites his lip, the words still sting, he does not think they will sting any less with time. He has loved Harrow for so long, he does not know how to do anything else. 

Aaravos chuckles. “If that was true, he would not be risking his life at your word.” 

The mage shakes his head. “He is not risking his life for who I am, but for who I was, who he imagines I was” Viren sighs. 

“Is that not enough? He is still risking it, regardless of his motivations. Do you not value that as enough?” Aaravos regards the human with curiosity. 

Viren looks down, kneading the palm of his hand with his thumb. “No,” he says quietly. “Not anymore.” 

Aaravos slides closer to the mage, Viren looks small, his shoulders bunched and that forlorn look on his face. The elf takes the humans calloused hands in his. Viren does not feel that shining touch but it still makes him feel better. 

“Why? You two seem to have such a deep history, what changed?” He brings his hand up, cupping the human's cheek. It is a gentle gesture. 

Viren looks up to meet those shining eyes, “I tried to kill his children, it was necessary… but there is no coming back from that.” his eyes flick down in guilt. He would still do the same thing if circumstances were different. The only thing that matters is the well being of Katolis, the safety of humankind. He is only one person in the grand tapestry of the universe, so his emotions matter little. That is why he knows that Harrow will never forgive him because he has no desire to change his mind, that he will do anything necessary regardless of circumstances to him or others. 

Aaravos pulls back, moving to the side. “Look out, see him struggle, focus on his emotions,” the elf gestures. Viren follows his arm up, there is nothing but forest on all sides off the dirt path on which the horse runs. The sound of hoofs faintly making it through to the mind space. 

Harrow breathes out, the day is starting to end. He can see the sun begin to sink over the trees. His body aches from hours on horseback at an unforgiving rate. The horse is getting tired just as much as he, its breaths harsh in the cooling air. 

He can see the tips of the town's gate, the first signs of houses peeking out past the curves off the road. He digs his heels into the horse's sides, spurring it forward. It complains before obeying, pushing forward with a rush of wind. It feels strange and unfamiliar, he is used to being on a horse but he still can't get over how short his hair is, the wind cutting through it easily, making him shiver. Viren’s body seems to always be cold, no matter what Harrow does, there is always that chill going through to the bone. 

He always made fun of the mage for wearing so many layers but now it makes sense. He is wearing a jacket and three layers of shirts underneath but still, he is cold. When before he could only wear one shirt and be fine, even in the winter. 

He understands now why Viren would often come into his room in the winter months, a blanket wrapped around him, crawling in bed with him and Sarai. They always thought that Viren wanted to be with them in one-off his moods, which was probably true, but also it must have been for heat. Those were better times and he best not dwell. In some ways Viren is right, Harrow knows he dwells on what was instead of what is. 

He has for so long let Viren do whatever he wishes and turned a blind eye to the transgressions. It caught up with him days after they took the defenseless dragon egg. Harrow knew off Viren’s secret dungeon and just what went down there. The darkness and deaths that were often seen by its walls. It was all for the glory of Katolis or so they told themselves. What glory is there now, on this dirt road, alone and in the wrong body, trying to save the life of a friend who sacrificed everything for him. 

Harrow sighs, pulling on the horse's reigns. It draws to a stop at the gates to the town. Next to Katolis, this is one of the closest places to restock before the Xadia border. It is mostly a garrison town as not many civilians are willing to live this close. 

“Traveler, approaching!” a guard shouts from the gates. Harrow looks up to see soldiers making rounds, forever vigilant. He urges the horse forward gently.

He takes a deep breath. “I am Kin….” he falters, looking down at his pale skin. “I am High Mage… Viren … of the Katolis throne.” he stumbles through the identification realizing he does not know Viren’s full set of titles. How much more does he not know? 

“We have said it before and we will say it again. You are not welcome here. Leave Mage.” the guard shouts back. 

Harrow feels white-hot rage flood his mind, the rage that is not his. He breathes in. “You dare deny a royal emissary seeking shelter?!” 

“We receive no missive to allow your kind inside. Leave, before we use you for target practice.” the guard takes his bow in a warning. Harrow feels himself get angry. This isn't right. 

“Harrow… do what they say...“ Viren’s voice is quiet, tinged with anger. 

The king narrows his eyes. “Why…?” 

“The situation for dark mages is like this all over the kingdom, your throne did not exactly support us.” Viren is barely audible above the turmoil of their shared emotions.

“I…” Harrow tries to think of what to say, that pure anger of Viren’s almost drowns him. 

“Save it. There is a cave with some supplies a short distance from here.” Viren speaks with venom. 

“Viren waits, There must be something… I can do.” he tries to think of it. He looks up at the guard. “I am the High Mage of Katolis, the Queen Regent will---” an arrow goes flying past his ear, embedding itself in the soft dirt. His horse rears up, he struggles to keep his grip on the reigns. 

“The next arrow will go through your skull. The King is dead, and the new Regent cares even less for your abominations.” the guard knocks another arrow. 

Harrow swallows backing up. This would have never happened if he was still in his own body. If Viren encounters this every time, it begs the questions of how many of his wounds and bruises were from humans instead of beasts in the wild. How many times did Viren come back after being hurt by the hatred Harrow himself had spread, and still claimed everything was fine. 

“I do not need your pity, Harrow,” Viren growls.

“That's not--” he starts. 

“No, it is, I know pity, Harrow.” Viren sighs, “Just get control of your horse, I will tell you where to go.” 

“Lil’ mage…use the familiar” Aaravos whispers. The caterpillar uncurls in its jar. 

Harrow sighs, getting on the horse. “Fine, but we will discuss this Viren.” 

The mage looks at Aaravos in the mind space, his smile wide, sly but accepting. Viren nods, the elves image dissolves “On one condition Harrow” 

“I'm listening.” The king spurs his horse forward, turning around. The guard on the wall relaxes his bowstring. 

“When we reach the, take the creature out of its jar.” Viren glances to the side where Aaravos was, uncertain. He isn’t sure just what the bug is, or how it figures into the elves plans but he was assured it will not be a danger to them. Aaravos was honest that he might die in Lux Aurea, why would he not be honest about the bug. Viren knows elves do not truly care for humans so of course, they are just using each other. He just has to make sure that he survives past his usefulness to the elf. 

“Why?” Harrow asks after a moment. He seems to have something heavy on his mind as well, still dwelling on the events of just a few short moments ago as the gates disappear from view. he was not directed on where to go, but he feels like he knows just where the caves are. 

Viren hesitates, he isn't all that sure why. He thinks back to hearing the elf's voice through the familiar. “It will… help you hear me better.” 

Harrow accepts that. He reaches behind him, taking out the jar. The caterpillar wiggles its little legs in excitement as Harrow drops the reigns, steering the horse with his legs, uncorking the top. The little familiar jumps on the rim going up the hand, crawling up his clothes. He squirms with a grunt as it hooks on to its ear. Harrow sighs. “Now tell me everything about just what it is like as a dark mage, so I can be prepared.”

So Viren does, as he promised. He starts careful, keeping his voice even and matter of fact. He tells of what it is like to travel alone, of what lengths he goes just to avoid human interaction. How he can’t have a fire to high to keep travelers away from his campsite. He tells off all the creatures living in the forests that are dangerous but not as terrifying for him as an encounter with a hunter. This is on the human side, it is even worse among the elves. 

He tells how Harrow must be careful to avoid larger towns or villages, how they could attack him if not careful. How to cover his path with a simple anti-tracking spell. The king refuses to cast it but Viren thinks he will change his mind. 

The sunsets and darkness envelope forest as they talk. When Viren is done telling him everything they reach their destination. The cave is well hidden behind some overgrowth. Harrow jumps off the horse, dropping the reigns, grabbing his pack. It is trained not to go too far when grazing so it will be fine. 

There are herbs at the cave entrance, having dried many months ago, filling the air with a pleasant smell. Harrow ducks underneath not to disturb them. Viren has yelled at him enough times for him to remember that he must never touch drying herbs. The cave is simple enough inside. There is a pallet with some furs scattered about, the outline of a desk in the far corner. He takes out his flint and steel, flicking it with expertise next to a torch to the right. It fills the area with flickering light. Harrow sits down on the makeshift bed with a sigh. He is sore from the ride and all he wants to do is rest. 

“Viren?” his voice is hoarse and quiet. He already feels sleep close around his mind. 

“Yes, my king?” the familiar mimics his voice perfectly. Aaravos sits by his side this time, having no need to disappear, their hands near each other yet not touching. 

“I want you to know that despite everything, I care for you. I…” he takes a shuddering breath. “We have both done many things to regret, I see that now… so I will always hold our promise close.” he smiles up at the cave ceiling. 

Viren stays silent. He does not regret his actions, regret would be mean he wishes to go back and change. This is not true, he knows he has to stand by the decisions made or he would not have survived for so long. He waits until Harrow's breathing relaxes and the light of dreams shines through his mind “I do not regret it, my old friend…” That is why Viren knows Harrow will not ever understand him. 

Aaravos tips his horns to the side, looking at the mage with pure shining curiosity. “I thought humans rarely stood by their actions, you do everything so at the moment, is regret not part of being human?” He slides closer, their hand's brush. The human mind is always a thing of unending curiosity. Ziard used to have many regrets in his life, the list seemed never-ending and yet Viren seems to be guilt-ridden but not in the same way. Aaravos desperately wants to know the difference. 

“It is not so simple, humanity cannot be classified as one thing or another. Can you say that all elves are the same, that they all act in the same way?” he brushes a hand through his hair, glad to talk about anything that is not Harrow’s confession. 

“No, I suppose not but one can always find that one characteristic that defines them all, it must be the same for humanity.” he muses, crossing his legs and turning to face Viren. 

“As in mob mentality? Yes, all societies have that group characteristic but it rarely applies to individuals who are alone. Those who stay on the outskirts tend to be different than the majority.” Viren has always considered him to be separate from the ‘normal’ crowd. It was always easier to see a situation from the outside. It was always easier to help that way, even if sometimes it made him feel soul-crushing loneliness. 

“Are you alone Viren?” Aaravos asks as though reading his mind. 

“I… I have… had my children, that is… was enough.” he sighs. Claudia was always there for him, his star student. Soren was less astute and often they did not see eye to eye. Viren loves them even if he has not done a good job of showing it. The guilt surges again, he closes his eyes against that tightness in his very soul. 

“Is it?” Aaravos slides even closer until Viren can’t help but look into the elf’s shining eyes, the breath catching in his chest. “Yes…” his voice low, raspy. He moves closer to Aaravos, his eyes flicking to those lips, just a short distance away. The elf laughs low, “You do not believe that. I can tell when one is lying Viren.” that is the first time Aaravos has used his name. It is exhilarating. 

“I… it has to be enough.” He hesitates, lifting his hand, a slither from running his thumb over that starlit cheek. 

“Why?” Aaravos flutters his eyes until they are almost closed, Viren can barely make out the glow off his iris. 

He tries to find a reason why being alone is enough. It is enough to protect those he cares about, to make the choices that many refuse to make. It is enough because he has to take the blame that Harrow cannot carry. It is enough just to know that his actions are bringing a brighter future to all of humanity. The reasons sound empty to his mind. Yet they have to be enough. He sighs, licking his lips as they breathe almost with the same rhythm. Viren tries to run his hand over the left cheek but it goes through the image.

Aaravos leans back quickly, the mood shattering, he rubs at his elbow with one hand, a melancholy gaze on his beautiful features. 

“I’m sorry…” Viren mumbles. 

Aaravos smiles, small and filled with sadness. “It is fine, Lil’ mage. You should sleep.” he clears his throat, sliding his carefree mask back in place. Viren says nothing, he knows that brief melancholy looks very well, he used to see it every morning in the mirror. 

“Sleep, here? Can I even do that?” he looks around, there hasn't been a need to sleep before this. 

“I wish to speak to your king, so yes sleep.” Aaravos grins wide. Viren moves back, 

“Wait--” but he does not get a chance to complain as the elf moves quickly across space, tapping him on the forehead, the sting of electricity and darkness. 

  
  



	5. Change

Viren wakes with a gasp. He runs his hand over his body. It isn’t solid, he is still in the mind space. “What… Aaravos?” the elf is nowhere to be seen. Viren looks up to no longer see the cave. There is gold, bright yellow gold everywhere. Creatures, he does not recognize stand before him, weapons drawn. “Harrow???” he gets up. “What's going on?” there is no answer to his confused query. The barrier that was protecting him from Harrow’s stronger soul is gone, Aaravos must be gone.

He feels panic start to set in as the elves tie ropes around their wrists. “Harrow! What is happening!?” fear pulses in his soul, they were not supposed to be in Lux Aurea for days. There was still time to get ready. How long was he asleep? What did that elf do to him? What did he and Harrow talk about? Viren feels himself breathing heavily, his body in the waking world reacting to his mental state.

“Viren, clam down,” Harrow whispers.

“Quiet, Prisoner!” a sharp bark. Viren feels pain in his side. Harrow manages to keep their balance.

“I will if you tell me what is happening!” he demands. Harrow stays silent, his eyes scanning the elves.

Viren takes a deep breath, forcing his soul to calm down. It would be foolish for Harrow to speak now. The elves must be leading them to the purification area. They were three weeks from the Xadian border give or take from the garrison. So Viren must have been asleep that long if not longer. Who knows what Harrow did in all that time, what he and the elf talked about. Viren takes a step forward to start pacing, the light shocks him. He had forgotten about that, being so safe in the elven made shelf, he had forgotten Harrows very soul is seeking to destroy him. He steps back, looking around his feet, the light is slowly encroaching on the small darkness swirling and lashing in restless energy.

“Harrow… I won't last long without…” he trails off. He hasn't told Harrow about the elf, and with what the two of them talked about, he can't. It is just another thing for Harrow to hate him about.

“It will be fine Viren,” Harrow whispers. The elves lead them deeper into the golden streets of Lux Aurea.

Viren does not believe Harrow's words of reassurance. The man always underestimates in times of danger. There are times when Harrow’s spirit of optimism fills Viren with faith and hope, today is not that time. He did not fear death at the moment he decided to give his body to Harrow but he did not think he would live. It was supposed to be a quick death that he would not feel. He is much more afraid of getting his soul torn asunder before his eyes. Viren swallows, trying to keep calm. The more he panics the more the light of Harrow's soul yearns to destroy him.

He sits down, drawing his knees up to his chest, trying to appear as small as he possibly can. His entire soul is starting to burn, scars of dark magic slowly crawling up his unmarked metaphysical skin. Viren closes his eyes, focusing to make his presence as small as possible to keep Harrow’s soul at bay.

Harrow walks carefully up the steps as he is led. The surroundings scream of luxury grander than anything he has seen, even as a king. It just reminds him of how much less the humans have compared to the elven empires. It has been almost a month, maybe more since he left Katolis. The journey to Xadia does not take so much time but the creature, the caterpillar cautioned him to wait for Viren’s sake. Which he did, though not understanding why. The elf spoke to him soon after Viren’s voice faded. It, he knew so much about Viren, about Harrow that the mage must have trusted him completely. So Harrow agreed to go along with the creature's strange demands for weeks upon weeks. Then he got a letter from Callum saying they returned the dragon prince to the queen successfully.

Soon after he was summoned to Lux Aurea. The citadel of the elves, where he is now. Their treatment leaves much to be desired considering he was invited. The shackles dig into his skin which he found to bruise very easily.

They claimed it was because off the corruption of dark magic on his body but Harrow thinks it is the natural prejudice against humans that they treat him as a prisoner and not a guest. The room they lead him to has white walls, simple wooden tables in rows. An elf with only one wing stands in the far corner reading over parchments. They look up when he enters, his chains clinking against each step.

The sky-wing elf turns towards them at the sound. “Ah yes! I am so glad you are here! This is quite an exciting opportunity!” They drop the papers, stumbling over their own feet as they rush. The elf is wearing wide-rimmed glasses, their black hair falling in tight curls.

“Name’s Myth! This is so great. It’s been so long since I got an interesting specimen such as yourself… uh, no offense.” they add with a quiet laugh.

Harrow smiles. “King Harrow of Katolis…well not anymore” he clears his throat, “it’s nice to meet you? Given the circumstances” he holds out his hand, the chains rattle. Myth scrounges their eyes in confusion, looking at the offered hand uncertainly before taking hold of it awkwardly, not sure what to do. Harrow laughs again, looking down, the elf seems very short for their kind.

“Right, sorry I’m not too familiar with modern culture.” the elf clears their throat, blush at their cheeks. “Let’s get started, unshackle the poor man already.” Myth crosses their arms.

The guards look at each other. “Mythanthar… that is not wise.”

“Oh shoosh, unshackle him or I will go get Alrai” they cross their arms, tapping their foot on the floor. Their one wing moves in annoyance.

The guards look at each other, swallowing. One of the guards unshackle him, the chains drop to the floor. Harrow rubs at his sore wrists. “So… what now?” He watches the Sunfire elves as they step back.

“Now we kill you!” Myth smiles, pure excitement in their eyes. The joy they radiate not matching their words.

Harrow takes a step back, going on guard. “Thanks… but I think I will pass.”

“Oh right, Alrai told me to phrase things better.” Myth scratches at their head. “Okay, We have to take your soul put it in a new body but for me to do that,” they hold out a candle “I have to stop your heart for three flickers of a flame… uh that’s three minutes in human time measure thing”

Harrow relaxes an inch. “What body? Whose body? I will not take the life of another.” he was adamant about this before and he is not changing his mind. He will even give up his life for Viren to get his body back. If he can be sure that Viren will not try to kill his children again. He never wanted his friend to sacrifice this much.

“Don’t worry about all that.. uh… here!” Myth turns quickly. “See that!” they point to one of the smaller tables by the large beds, where something is covered with a cloth. “I should probably show you.”

Harrow tries to get a word in sideways between the elf's gestures to no luck. He sighs just going along with it. He is very much used to Viren doing the same thing in his excitement. Harrow walks closer to the table. Myth pulls aside the cloth “Tada!” they bounce lightly on their bare feet, long considering shoes as an enemy.

Harrow lifts an eyebrow, underneath is a simple dark orange crystal.

“It’s a rock…” what is it with mages and showing him rocks, one looks just like the other to him.

Myth chuckles with a snort. “Not just any rock, dear. It is a golem and this is where your soul will go.” they start to draw a rune in the air.

“Then what? If I am in that crystal, how is that life.” he leans back. One of the many things Viren taught him is to never just let someone use magic on him without asking everything. Harrow sighs, realizing just how much he misses that man at his side. Aaravos warned him that they would both go quiet in Lux Aurea. Harrow has gotten so used to their voices that now he feels empty and alone.

The elf finishes drawing the rune with a flick of their wrist. The air ripples with an illusion, a small humanoid figure starts to move over another resting on a table.

“So I take your soul,” the illusionary version of the elf lifts one of its arms. Harrow leans in to see that it has a shining orb in its palm.

“Then I put it in the crystal.” The illusion demonstrates. “Then the crystal uses the power of your soul to build you a body!” The small fake crystal starts to glow and form a body. “That’s a golem. In time, if your soul is strong enough to form a….” he looks at the guards. “Well I’ll tell you once it works.” they smile.

Harrow narrows his eyes. This all seems too good to be true. “Why are you doing this, what is in it for you?”

Myth sighs, looking at the guards again, gesturing for Harrow to move closer. “Zubia, our great Queen may have ordered me to obey, but I have my reasons too” their left-hand rests on Harrow's stomach, the king flinches back at the sudden touch “The thing you two carry will shape an age.” they lean back quickly, as the guards start to get suspicious.

“What does that…” Harrow starts to ask.

“Let’s get started, time is of the essence. The moon is new on this night and my magic is strongest then.” the illusions snaps and dissolves. “I must cast the spell to help both of you when the stars are brightest.”

Harrow wants to ask more questions but he knows at this point he is wasting time. Aaravos had told him much the same, once they reach Lux Aurea, Viren will have a day at most before his soul is destroyed. He nods.

Myth nods back. “Lie down on the table.”

Harrow obeys without a word, sitting down and pulling his legs up. The lights above are bright, he closes his eyes.

Myth takes a deep breath, taking a dagger out, spreading their arms wide. “traeh eht pots dna doolb dereffo eht ekat ,eb tsum eno ylno erehw sluos owT” they chant with practiced ease, cutting their palm, their eyes shining with power. Harrow feels his consciousness slip away.

“Dark Magic!” one of the guards shouts, unsheathing their weapon. It is a younger elf, hatred in his eyes. The others stop him. “No, it is star magic, they are one of the last elves who still practice it.”

The younger soldier seems unconvinced but sheathes his weapon, cursing. Myth pays them no mind. There is not much difference between the magic of the stars and the magic referred to as dark. Everything is just a tool after all, useful or harmful in the right hands.

“luos eht eerf ,traeh eht potS.” they drip their blood over the chest of the human, it soaks through the clothing. Myth breathes out, repeating the spell over and over until light blooms in the injured palm. They bring their hands together as the light blooms brighter.

“.nettogrof eht ot efil evig ,nekorb eht ot ,tsol eht ot efil eviG” they bring the soul over the crystal. It starts to pulse in anticipation. Harrow’s soul sinking into it almost eagerly, as soon as the entirety of the human's spirit transfers in, Myth breaks the spell, going over to the now dead body of the mage.

In some ways, it looks grotesque. The sunken in eyes scarred with many years of dark magic, the shallow cheeks, the pale skin, the stillness of the chest. Myth has seen bodies like this many times over their long life, bodies that have been abused by the world just to survive. They are unaffected, moving to the next stage.

The Sunfire guards, on the other hand, look upon the human with even more disgust then before.

Myth rips open the bloodstained cloth over the man's chest, drawing an earth rune quickly. The body spasms but the heart stays still. They do it again. “Come on, I need you to live Ziard, come on,” they mumble focusing their mind on getting hold off that weak soul hiding in the depts of the body. They decide that magic will not work. They put their hands over that darkened chest, pushing down at even intervals, taking the human by the nose and opening his mouth before breathing in.

The guards watching them are even more unnerved by this action. Myth does this once, twice. Counting down every excruciating second that passes and the mage stays dead. The do it again, drawing a rune of the earth at the same time.

Viren’s body spams and his lungs cease as he gasps. Myth breaths out in relief as the body comes back to life. Though worry quickly crosses their brow again. The body is living but the soul did not respond. The human must be hiding in the deepest corners off his mind by choice.

There is only one way to get him out but it must wait. Myth looks at the crystal. They have to focus on bringing the human king back to strength before they can bother with Ziard’s stubborn reincarnated soul.


	6. Unique

Viren felt more than saw the pressure of Harrow’s soul lift. He felt his heart stop and their shared body sink into the cold rest of death. He did not want to open his eyes. He did not want to face that they might be dying, that Harrow is gone. It is all his fault, he listened to the strange elf, he wanted to live so bad that he did not stop to think of what would happen when they reached the very center of Xadia. 

Some part of him knew that death was the only result in this foolish hope but he wanted so badly for it to be true, he wanted so badly to believe in a better future. This is exactly what he gets for listening to the words of an elf. 

Viren tightens his grip on his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks, chest heaving with pain. 

“Viren….” a voice whispers but he does not hear it. He shakes his head, mumbling ‘No’ over and over again. 

“Lil’ mage… I need you to wake up…” that deep voice tries again but the dark mage stays oblivious, sinking further into the mentality of guilt and self-deprecating blame.

“You foolish human…” it fades out, if Viren heard it, maybe he would hear the quiet sound of fear and concern. 

***

Harrow gasps sitting up quickly, fighting the wave of dizziness that washes over his body. He looks down to see that is his body, the same familiar muscles, no longer that sickly pale. He breathes out in relief. There is something in the center of his chest, glowing and pulsing with every breath. It must be the crystal the elf had shown him just moments before. He’s alive and has his own body. It is almost too good to be true. 

“Viren… Viren!” Harrow jumps off the simple metal bed, his feet hitting the cold marble. He sways, using the bed as support. His feet feel weird, new. Harrow takes a step forward, managing to keep his balance this time. 

The room is the same one they were in before but nobody is there, just the cold dark of the night barely kept out by the magic lights shining high above. Harrow will never get used to just how much magic is in every corner of this elven citadel, he would kill for a simple candle right now. 

The hall outside the room is not empty, two guards stand on either side of the door. 

“Uh.. excuse me. I am looking for Myth?” Harrow thinks that was their name, a lot happened in that short time. 

The guards look at each other, saying a few words that Harrow does not comprehend. He brushes a hand through his dreads, wondering who took the time to do them. 

“I can’t… do you speak Katolian perhaps?” he asks, his voice is weak, uncertain. 

“Go down the hall, the human you are looking for is there with Mythanthar.” one off the guard's points, speaking the common tongue. Harrow is passing to get by, just as any king has to be. He nods, even speaking feels strange. 

The hall is cold with the night chill, winter soon approaching, not as cold as the other side of the breach but enough to make him shiver. Harrow rubs his cheek in an attempt to get some of the weird feelings out of his body. He freezes, looking at his hand. It has four fingers, the four fingers of an elf. He swallows his hand shaking and going up to his ears, they are decidedly not human. 

“Holy shit… I’m an elf,” he mumbles. The guards laugh at his confusion. He wonders just what else is different. He feels his chest tighten, panic starting to settle in. Harrow takes a deep breath, he can panic once he knows that Viren is safe, or at least alive. 

His steps echo on the marble, even though he is barefoot. Mind racing with thoughts. What does it mean that he is an elf, it cannot be that easy to make a body for someone. He thought that he was going to be some creature of stone. That is what Viren told him golems were like but as he runs a hand over his skin, it feels soft and flesh like. Strange, tougher and more powerful. 

Harrow turns into the first open door he sees just as the guards had directed him. The elf from earlier is chanting in what is dark magic, complete with that purple glow always surrounding Viren when he did it. The elf stops as soon as he enters, glancing back from their cross-legged position on the floor. 

“Oh thank goodness, it's you. My brethren don’t like it when I use star magic.” they laugh weakly. “It’s foolish of them of course but what can we do.” they shrug. 

“Why are you using it?” Harrow gets closer, Viren is before them, lying on the floor. 

“Well, primal magic does not get along with ‘dark’ magic. The only way to help him at this point is to give him my energy which can only be done with the forbidden arts.” the elf shrugs. 

Harrow sinks to the floor. “Why is he not awake yet?” He watches as Viren’s chest rises and falls with measured breaths of deep sleep. 

“He doesn’t want to. Your soul did a number on him, two bodies are not meant to share one.” Myth starts to get up. 

“What does that mean? What can we do to help?” Harrow takes Viren's palm in his. It is terrifyingly cold, it feels as though he is on the death door. 

“I did all I could, the rest is up to you.” Myth breathes out, his eyes shine. 

Harrow moves from his sitting position, he does not want to let go of Viren. The elf releases the gathered magic, it pulses over the room in vivid colors. Harrow groans as the magic hits him. His consciousness starts to fade. He is very much getting tired of some magic crap making him faint at the drop of a hat. It is no use fighting as darkness closes around his eyes and he falls on top off Viren’s cold body. 

***

The darkness slowly gives away to purple murky fog, glowing with a faint purple light. “More magic bullshit… Viren!” he shouts, his booming voice breaking through the fog. Light blooming with his every step. “If I have to walk through one creepy-ass dream for you it will be too soon. Viren!” he shouts again. The fog flinches back from his presence as though he hurts it. In front of him, a path of light starts to form leading him deeper into that strange shifting void. He works with purpose, annoyance twisting in his gut. 

The fog clears as he walks along with the light, he thinks he sees a huddled body in the darkness. “Viren!” he walks faster, taking off at a run. The fog gets braver, it does not want him to get closer. He pushes past it, falling to his knees. 

Viren looks worse then Harrow has ever seen him. He sits naked on the floor, legs pulled tight, his arms wrapped around his shivering body. His cheeks are sunken in, his eyes empty and unfeeling. Harrow can see his ribs pronounced and sharp. Viren looks as though he has not eaten in weeks, his stomach is protruding, moving as though something is under the skin. 

Harrow swallows, he isn't sure what to do now. “Viren...hey” he hesitates before touching the mage. There are times when Viren can’t stand to be touched, especially in one of his forlorn moods. This seems more than that, so Harrow hesitates. 

“Viren, can you hear me?” He looks into those eyes but they remain empty and unseeing.

“Harrow….” Viren's voice is quiet, he can barely make his name out. 

“Yes, Viren... You need to wake up.” he takes Viren by the hand, the mage blinks, life slowly returning to his eyes. Harrow can feel just how much Viren is shaking. What happened in the months since they talked about last. The elf had told him everything will be alright but this looks far from alright. 

Viren shakes his head. “No, no, no… I can’t. You’re dead.” he chokes. “You died twice because of me, Sarai died because of me, if I wake up, more people will die! I am a curse!” the words are frantic and wild. 

Harrow closes his eyes, blinking back tears. “No, it’s not. None of this is your fault Viren!...” he sighs. “I know the words I said made you think that but Sarai was not your fault. It was mine if anything for letting you carry so much.” 

“No, I was supposed to protect them, protect you. I tried…” he gasps. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. Father was right, a useless mouth to feed, you were right. I’m sorry.” he mutters, eyes frantically looking around but never focusing on Harrow. 

“Viren, dammit.” Harrow looks around, there must be a way to snap him out of it. The mage keeps muttering of how the blame for everything is his fault, how he failed Katolis and humanity, how he failed Harrow, how he keeps failing. 

Harrow closes his eyes, breathing in. “You are right Viren. It is all your fault.” he puts on a cold air of royalty, his eyes open and piercing, getting up to his full height. This stops the man kneeling before him mid-word. 

“My fault…” tears well up in Viren’s eyes. 

“Yes. Your fault that the dragons exiled humanity before our lifetimes! Your fault that Thunder was there patrolling the border in his hatred! Your fault that I ordered you to destroy the egg! Which you did not even do and disobeyed a direct order!” Harrow takes a deep breath. 

“You fault that my sons have returned the dragon prince and we are moving into an unprecedented peace with the elves!” he takes Viren gently by the hair so he looks up. “Your fault that I love you so much that I will not let you die even if everyone tells me that I should leave you!” he feels the energy, the anger faded from his body. He sinks to his knees. “I love you, Viren, so much, please… just wake up.” He pulls the mage into his strong embrace. 

Viren does not return it, his body is frozen. He wants to push Harrow away and pull him closer at the same time. “Why?” he mutters quietly. 

Harrow holds him tighter. “Do I need a reason to love you, old friend?” he mumbles into the man's shoulder. Viren starts to push him away, he can't take this. He can’t fall into the same pattern, risking everything for Harrow. RIsking it all and still losing everything once again. Viren and his solutions have not once ended in anyone's happiness, and yet he still tried, still worked for a better future. All he has accomplished is the death of his best friends and the threat of his death. It is not a good track record, the world is better off without him. 

Harrow does not let him pull away. “I love the way your words shine when you sit by the fire, reading tales to our children.” he smiles, going down the memories he holds precious. “I love the way you do anything for everyone, no matter how small.” he thinks back on the time when they spent hours looking for a dog Claudia saw, to only find out it was a doll. Viren had not yelled, he just sat down and talked to her quietly. Instead of getting angry, he quietly nurtured her imagination even though they had wasted hours on the task. 

“I love how your hair falls when it is wet, how your eyes shine in the moonlight.” He brushes his hand through Viren’s hair, pulling back to look into those shining tear-stained eyes. 

“I love every imperfect on your skin.” he traces the most memorable scars on the mage's skin. Viren shivers at the touch.

“I love all of you, from your temper and stubbornness to that kindness you try so hard to hide.” Harrow kisses him gently. Viren melts into his touch, the shivering easing slowly.

He pulls back from the kiss “Please, Viren. I need you to wake up, and preferably cut it out with this magic bullshit for at least a day?” He laughs weakly. Viren feels the tip of his mouth shiver and lifts into a half-smile. 

“Do you still hate me for…” he hesitates, there is so much Viren has done that he could be hated for, how can he say just one thing. 

“I disagree with the choices you made in your grief, but I could never hate you.” Harrow starts to stand up, guiding Viren up with him, avoiding looking at the man's dark magic bruised body. 

The mage is slouching into him, appearing shorter than he is. Harrow holds him with an iron grip, Viren is grateful, he does not think he could stand alone. 

“I… only if you promise that you will not leave me again Harrow, promise you will not die because of pride again.” he looks up searching the stubborn king's beautiful eyes. He could not take it if he fails in saving Harrow again, the blame will be enough to consume him. 

“Yes, if it gets you to come back to the waking world, I promise…” He promises to try, Harrow knows if the situation had happened again, he would still stand tall and meet his death. He is not one to change his path, just as Viren would not change his. 

Viren is too tired and soul-weary to pick up on that moment of hesitation, on that small white lie. 

Harrow nods. He isn’t sure how to get out of this mind space. “I’m not sure what we do now.” he looks around. 

“I do.” Viren closes his eyes. When he opens them again they glow, the purple mist gathering around them. Harrow holds tighter, never comfortable with the use of magic of any kind, especially dark magic that always takes its toll on Viren. He is not afraid of the power, he is afraid of his friend wasting away before his eyes. The mist flashes, its glow gets unbearable. Harrow closes his eyes against it. He feels a pull on his soul and the next thing he knows he is awake back in Lux Aurea. 

Viren is sitting up, his hand running through Harrow’s hair, the king resting in his lap. Listening to the elf that is speaking to him in no language that Harrow can decipher. 

“Hey.. you okay?” He mumbles, shaking the magic sleep from his mind. 

“Yes, I am alright. Thank you, my friend.” he smiles, moving his hand back. Harrow resists a whimper as that touch leaves his scalp. He has missed the way both Sarai and Viren used to do that when times were simpler. 

“Alright would be understating things, don’t you think dear?” Myth has the patient care smile on their features, used to people like Viren trying to hide everything from their family. 

Harrow narrows his eyes. “What are they talking about, Viren. No secrets.” 

The mage looks away, his hand going to his stomach, a brief shine of guilt. “They will not let me leave until they cleanse the dark magic,” he whispers. It is the ultimatum for coming here, the elves can’t stand dark magic. They will not let a dark mage exist free in the outside world. 

“What is the problem with that? Is that not why we came here?” Harrow feels the hope return to his heart, he can help Viren be how he was before he sacrificed everything for that dark power.

“The problem is I could die, Harrow!” he shouts, brushing his hair back. “I have told you countless times that dark magic cannot be cleansed without a cost!” Viren grits his teeth. The dream, the promise was so beguiling in the dream realm that he let himself forget why they are different people in the first place, why it will never work until Harrow accepts the dark magic. 

The newly reborn sun-fire elf turns to Myth. “Is that true?” 

“Well yes, there is some risk. The sun primal will attempt to burn the darkness out of his body, it could be dangerous.” they shrug. “Also the interference from the baby could mess with the ceremony.” Myth shifts their weight, the one wing fluttering.

Harrow and Viren look at each other in confusion. “The what???” Harrow asks exasperated. “What baby.” 

Myth tilts their head. “Do you not know? Your *Lil’ mage* is three to four months with child.” they point at the small bump on Viren’s stomach. Harrow just thought he was gaining weight because while they shared a body his meals were more consistent. 

There is silence as the two humans try to get their minds around it. 

“What do you mean I am with a child!? That’s impossible. I… there is no way! Not since…” he looks at Harrow then glances away, rubbing at his brow. They both know that Viren made himself infertile all those years ago, set to never bring another child into the world, not if Harrow would not accept it. It was a choice both of them regretted and were glad for. Yet now, despite everything, this elf is saying something they both dread. 

“It’s very possible! I know these things!” Myth smiles. They sense the faint heartbeat of primal magic growing in the body of the mage. It will be a very strong child. 

“Whose is it?” Harrow turns to Viren, arms crossed, jealousy creeping. If it is four months, that would be before the assassination, right before. 

Viren feels his eye twitch, his mind going on the defensive. “Really Harrow?! That is your first question, whose is it!? You tell me!” he growls, if he is three months along this was after Harrow took his body. “This is why we will never work! You never give me the benefit of the doubt. I’m sterile! There is just no way…” the anger fizzles out, tears shining in his eyes. His emotions flaring and disappearing just as quickly. 

Myth clears their throat before Harrow gets a chance to retort. “The child is yours and his, with a third combination of energy I could not quite place” they hum, with a small smile on their lips.

“Ours?? How is that... what do you mean ours??” He turns on the elf, arms crossed, biting at his thumb. Viren narrows his eyes, ‘Aaravos?’ he whispers in his thoughts. The familiar is nowhere to be seen but maybe the elf is listening. It is starting to dawn on him just what the child is. 

“You see, when two people of opposite biological makeup share a body there is a possible side effect called a soul merge.” he snaps his fingers, drawing a quick rune of illusion. “It is called a soul merge child, a powerful magical being that ignores most laws of nature.” the illusion shows their souls blending together, creating a third soul. Harrow feels sick, almost giddy. He reaches his hand out. “My child… our child” he looks at Viren in disbelief. 

“What will happen to it if I get cleansed.” Viren looks at the illusion, fighting to keep his expression neutral. He has always wanted a child with Harrow but that possibility had sailed, now, as old as they are, it is not a good idea. 

“It will be fine, better than fine. Magical children feed on Primal energy, it will help them grow strong. Both of them should be more than okay.” he smiles. 

Harrow’s eyes go wide again. “Both of them ...? Two children…?” he sits down on the bed. Viren moves his legs out of the way at the last minute. 

“How will they interfere with the ceremony?” Viren narrows his eyes. 

“Their power could amplify the sun primal energy and it could kill you.” Myth says cheerfully. The color drains out of Harrow's face. 

“If you don't go through with it though, all three of you will die,” they add almost absentmindedly. 

Harrow curses, reaching for Viren's hand. Why must he always choose between his children and this man? The mage flinches back from his touch. Viren looking away from that hurt look on Harrow’s face. 

“Do it, whatever is necessary,” Viren says simply. There is a quiet laugh in the back of his mind. 

“I am glad you are awake Lil’ mage,” Aaravos whispers through their bond, nobody else seems to hear that deep beguiling voice. Viren releases a breath he did not know he was holding. 

“Viren… you could die…” Harrow sighs, he wants to have Viren be cleansed of that horrible power that has caused them all so much pain and trouble but he doesn't want to lose the man after they have been through so much. 

“Harrow, That is part of the job. I could die at any moment, during any spell. If I am with child by some miracle then the risk is enough” he focuses his gaze. Viren tries to keep the shaking in his body down. This was part of his plan from the beginning. Aaravos did tell him that getting purified was going to be dangerous, that he could die. He failed to mention the possibility of children being involved in this but if anything Viren can adapt. Harrow stands up. 

‘I did not know.’ Aaravos voice echoes in his mind. 

Harrow tries to find words to say, opening his mouth then closing it. There is nothing to say. His mind is going back to the day he had let his anger flare on Viren. That day when they had drifted apart, that anger and distrust never fading away. He remembers that broken vial on the floor, the black liquid spilling down Viren's lips. 

“Harrow.” Viren looks at his friend who is starting to spiral. 

Harrow remembers Viren doubling over in pain. How he was sick for days and days. How he was never the same after that. That day when they stopped talking as openly, stopped trusting. It was then that Viren truly began to hide things from everyone. It is a day Harrow always regrets. 

“Your esteemed majesty!” he raises his voice, putting all of his voice into being the advisor Harrow needs him to be. Viren pushes back all of his panics to support the man before him just as he has always done. He makes a fist, his nails digging into the skin of his palm. 

“Harrow, it is fine. Take a deep breath, I’m… here” he takes the man's hand in his after a moment of hesitation. 

“Yes… yes, sorry. Are you… how are you… about all this?” Harrow sits down at the edge off the bed, happy to hold on to Viren, he runs his hand over that place trembling skin gently. 

“I am fine, my king.” he lets weight sink into his words. Harrow flinches, knowing that tone very well. He knows it to be the voice Viren uses when he is far from okay. The wall around his mind keeping Harrow at a distance, keeping the world at a distance. 

“You lie so easily, to protect those you care for. I sense your turmoil. Trust my word, it will be alright. I promise you will not die.” the elf's voice feels reassuring. Viren holds onto that quiet confidence. It makes him feel strong even if he hesitates to believe.

“You don’t have to keep calling me…” Harrow sighs as Viren pulls his arm back, resting it on his stomach, that bump is so much more obvious than before

“Okay, okay, I've had enough of listening to your human drama. We have to do the ceremony in an hour, or we miss the window.” Myth claps as they get annoyed with listening on the side. 

Harrow and Viren look up at them as though they have forgotten that the elf was in the same room. They look away from each other. 

Viren breathes out, groaning as he moves off the simple much to solid bed. Harrow moves to help him but stops at a glare from the mage. He wrings his hands together, trying to resist the urge to help. 

Myth steps aside, bowing their head as Viren limps past. The mage finds the gesture odd but there is so much more he can focus on. Harrow walks behind him, ready to help should anything cause Viren to stumble. The elf follows them, guiding them through the halls with a quiet voice. 

The guards at the door join them, white-knuckled grip on their weapons as they regard Viren with hatred and suspicion. To say elves do not like dark mages would be an understatement, and human dark mages go into a new category of hatred altogether. 

Harrow glances behind as they walk while Viren pays them no mind. Aaravos quietly speaks in his mind, echoing deep voice that fills Viren with power and confidence. It is a pillar that keeps him rooted to his convictions. 

“Once the light hits you, it will burn. You need to find something to hold on to. Find a memory, an object, a person that will keep you anchored to this world.” Aaravos closes his eyes in his mirror jail, focusing to keep his connection to Viren as the human's mind swims with turmoil. 

Viren breathes in, his body shakes. There is nothing that he can think of on which he can hold onto. He can’t trust Harrow, he does not know where his children are, there is nothing. He stumbles. Harrow's hand on his back does not help, it makes him feel worse. He feels bile rise in his throat. He feels panic starts to set in. Viren stops, leaning against the wall. He lets his mind wander to basic spells he has recited many times. Mantras for a calm mind. 

“Good, remain calm. Focus on my voice, if you have nothing, I will be that something.” Aaravos keeps his voice steady. They are so close to the first part of his goals and he needs Viren. 

Viren does not hear Harrow’s concerned voice, does not want to feel his touch. He focuses on the mantra in his head and the elfs voice talking quietly, repeating after him. The fact that Aaravos knows them and repeats with him stops the shaking. 

“I’m okay.” he breathes in and out steadily. “Let’s just do this.” He stands strong. Part of the ritual is having to face the queen of the Sunfire elves. If he shows weakness before her, then he just proves their thoughts on how weak humanity is. Viren knows he has to do better, to be stronger, to prove he is not as weak as everybody considers him. 

Harrow grinds his teeth. He knows Viren is just putting on a brave face. All he wants to do is protect everyone he can but the more he just goes from one place to another on the commands of some mage, he feels like he can’t do anything. Watching Viren now, so strong but broken, he feels that inability to help down to his soul.


	7. Dawn

The sun rises above the grand citadel of the Sunfire elves. The gold spires shine just as they have for many centuries before and will for many centuries after. Viren tries to hide the disdain from his face, to keep himself neutral in the face of hatred and fear.

Harrow was not allowed to go this far, the queen's guards had stopped him just before the steps. It mattered little to Viren. Harrow is an elf now, he is now one of them. They will treat him well enough, keep him safe. The king, his oldest friend is even farther away then he was before. Viren takes one last glance behind him to see Harrow shifting from leg to leg, wringing his hands, pure tension going through his new body. The crystal in his chest pulsing quickly and rhythmically. 

Viren puts him out of his mind. The QUeen of the Sunfire elves looks down at him with disgust. The gathered court looks at him with fear. 

“See them cover before you, the fear that they children off, the monster that they see in their dreams.” Aaravos laughs. “They preach of the weakness of humanity and yet here they are unable to face the monster they created with their hate.” 

Those words fill Viren with power, he holds on to them. 

“This is just the beginning, we will show them just what fear is, my little mage.” Aaravos readies his power beyond the mirror, he gives it to Viren. 

The elven soldiers push him to the ground with force. He can feel his knees bruise through the fabric of the dress they had put him in while he was unconscious. They restrain him with a simple spell of light moving with runes of restraint. If he had any of his tools it would be easy to break. 

“There is nothing to be afraid of” the queen of the Sunfire elves walks down the grand steps to her throne, dressed in shining luxury and gold while humans starve. She thinks this pure greed is what makes her better. Viren knows otherwise, that greed fueled by hatred is what makes elves ugly. Those that shine the brightest often have the ugliest souls. It is those in the shadows that know true kindness. 

“The light from the SUn Forge is one of purification.” the sun frames her elaborate crown that could feed a whole village for a month. Viren glares daggers at her. 

“It will only remove the parts of you that have been touched by Dark Magic.” she walks away as their primal mage lifts the staff holding an exceptionally powerful stone. What Viren would not give to even have the slither of the power they take for granted. He scrunches his eyes against the light, the mage points the staff down at him before circling around cautiously. The glow of the sun starts to condense into a beam that slowly approaches him. 

He tries and fails to keep the surprise from showing on his face. 

The queen stops just as she is about to walk past him, she takes a breath “Ugh...Humans Disgust me” 

“Don’t sniff then” Aaravos goads. Viren stifles a laugh, looking down. 

The lights reach the barrier around him, the pain starts low, like a discomfort. The queen still talks but her voice starts to sound far away, as though through a deep fog. 

“You kind could not be satisfied with what you were given.” she muses as though it is the most natural thing,

Viren feels the elf’s anger in his mind. “What they were given, oh little queen. What pray tell did we ever give the humans but pain and suffering.” he chuckles. “Pain and suffering I will give you back tenfold for taking my loved ones from me” there is hatred tinged with sadness in Aaravos’ voice. Viren wants to ask but the pain makes him unable to form words. ‘

“So you take what is not yours.” she truly believes in her words. 

“They only take what they need to survive” Aaravos’ words echo, it feels like he has made this argument many times before. Viren knew that the elf holds centuries of hate for his kind and that did off dragons, maybe more than any human fighting for freedom. 

“You take it within you and turn it into filth.” That conviction is truly something one should fear. She is so certain that her words are true. Aaravos scoffs, not wasting any more words on ones who do not hear and even if they did, would refuse to listen. 

Viren groans as something seems to move and shift in his chest. The pressure becoming too much. His eyes starting to itch and burn. 

“Breathe” Aaravos cautions. Viren tips his head back as the pressure gets too much. He feels something crawl out of his throat, past his mouth, the feel of little all too familiar feet. He knows it to be that strange familiar. He tips his head forward and it jumps out onto the sun staff holding the primal stone, crawling up the mages limbs with agility Viren did not expect from it, biting the surprised elf. Dark purple smoke starts to engulf the staff. 

Viren can barely move, he can only watch as the darkness spreads from the primal stone to the very nexus itself.

“Viren! WHats happening!?” Harrow shouts, pushing against the guards holding him.

The white shield of light dies around Viren just as the nexus loses its power. He can barely keep his eyes open, his head too heavy for his neck to support. The mage groans as a purple mist surround him. 

Viren lifts his head weakly, “Aaravos?” he tries to say, to get the elf’s attention but he is too weak. The guards move to attack them, the elf easily fends them off with a spell. Viren can’t quite make out their words. His breathing labored, the pain slowly fading but not enough, all he can hear is the roar of his blood in his ears. He does not know how much time passes or what is going on around him. The fight is over just as quickly as it started. 

“Viren!” Harrow's distinct voice breaks through that roaring pain. He looks up to see the man kneeling by him, unsure if he should touch him let alone help him. Viren glances behind him to see Aaravos standing tall over the Sunfire Queen. The guards did not take as much damage and start to stir. 

Viren groans as he gets up. The pain has faded but the discomfort stayed, it will be a while until he is back at full power. The queen’s scream echoes. Viren watches her fall, his lips tip up in a smile. Harrow just looks horrified. He does not understand what it is to feel the joy of seeing the suffering of those who have beaten you downtime and time again. It is exhilarating. 

The elf turns, Viren starts to stand. Harrow takes him by the arm without thinking. “Wait, Viren. What’s going on, where are you going.” 

Viren rips his hand out of that strong grip. “Where I belong Harrow.” he takes a step, turning his back on the king. 

“You belong with me!” Harrow moves to go after him. Aaravos regards them with curiosity, watching the guards for any hostile movement, ready to protect Viren. 

Viren stops, not turning. “Do I Harrow? Where? On my knees as a servant?” he laughs. 

“No! Together as equals, raising our children!” he takes a step closer, trying to close the gap that has formed all those years. He feels weak as the sun primal is not supporting him anymore, only the power of his soul and Myth’s magic. 

Viren scoffs. “Together until you decide that I am no better than a servant, that my birth and my power makes me lesser.” He regards the elf radiating power and beauty before him. Aaravos has shown him just what it means to be equals. For all his words Harrow has done no such thing. “I think not old friend, we are better off on opposites sides of this war.” He walks closer to stand by Aaravos’ side, taking the offered staff. He taps it on the ground, turning towards Harrow. “I will no longer live in the shadows, I will take the power I and my children deserve.” He waves the staff, muttering a spell of dark magic. The scenery starts to shift and dissolve. The body of the mage responsible for the ritual drops dead as Aaravos leaves its body

“Viren wait! Don’t!” Harrow pushes up with willpower, but he does not make it in time as their image disappears and he is left alone and guilt-ridden. He drove Viren away, this was his fault. If he did anything differently. Perhaps stopped him from doing the ceremony, did not push him to come here, or left as soon as he got this body. Harrow sighs, knowing that insisting on anything different would have ended the lives of their unborn children. Dark Magic is wrong and he wishes Viren would understand that. Maybe if Viren could have seen things from his side they would still be together and happy. 

While Harrow is finding ways to transfer blame to dark magic, Viren struggles to put him out of his mind. There is no time to dwell on the past. They had teleported just outside Lux Aurea, Viren had taken one of their mounts, a beautiful unicorn with a black and white coat. He spent so long looking for a unicorn to kill Thunder and the elves have a stable full of them. 

He shakes his head. Aaravos rides by his side on his illusioned horse. That is more than enough to keep Viren distracted. 

“So, what is the plan now.” Viren looks at the elf from the corner of his eye. There is still much he does not know, the star touch proving to be as stubborn as ever in his half-truths. 

“Now we rest,” he says simply. 

“That’s it? After everything you wish to rest.” Viren shakes his head, it is time for actions while the elves are off guard. 

“Yes rest, you are with child. I used a lot of my power just to take the sun primal and save you.” he sits up crossing his legs, balancing precariously on its back. “Things did not go exactly to plan when you gave your life up, Lil’ mage.” 

Viren sighs. “I know, but I could not stand by as he died in my arms. I just needed him to live, I know now that was selfish and foolish.” he closes his eyes for a moment. He should have known better than to give in to self-serving desires. Harrow was never a good king, they did not need him. There was little reason to bring him back that was not Viren’s feelings of love. 

“It is not selfish to love.” Aaravos smiles. “It gives us power and that is what elves do not understand, and it is what makes you humans so different.” he looks up at the sky. “Even in your darkest and cruelest moment there is still a room for change, for love.” he sighs, looking back down, tracing the lifeline on his palm. “We elves are not so open, we tend to dwell on hatred and tradition.” 

Viren is not sure what to say, there is not much to say. That grief shining in Aaravos eyes is familiar and haunting. He swallows searching his mind for words but knowing the silence is better. So he stays silent, they listen to the clicking of the horse's hooves as they come into contact with the odd rock on the dirt path. 

Aaravos sighs after a moment. “There is a village a close friend of mine resides in or used to reside in. It has been a long time since I walked Xadia.” 

“If they re not there, what then?” Viren spurs the horse forward as it starts to slow. 

“The village should still be standing. We just need time to rest, a place for you to deliver the children and for me to use the power we gathered.” he waves, pointing at the staff. 

Viren looks down at his stomach, it is still to early for the children to move, still too early to even be sure he won’t miscarry. It is a worry that is constantly in his mind. He has miscarried many young ever since he started using dark magic and hoping for anything different seems foolish. 

“Then what?” Viren pushes, he wants to know and being in the dark is no longer sitting right with him, if it ever did. 

“Then we break everything the dragons and the elves stand for,” he says with conviction. 

Viren nods. He can go along with that. Breaking the dragons and the elves is one way to ensure the safety of humanity. He will not let idealistic morals get in the way. There is only one victor in this endless war and he will make sure it is humanity this time. He may not trust Aaravos just as he does not trust anyone but he can support goals where the oppressors of humanity suffer. 

***

Harrow looks down at the map before him. Amaya and Queen Janai join him. They had gathered to decide the next step after Viren had corrupted the elven source of sun magic. 

“This is not a discussion. We have to kill him.” The newly appointed Sunfire queen crosses her arms. 

Amaya looks at Harrow then nods. “I agree” she signs. 

Harrow digs a hand into his dreads, his pointed ears twitch. “There must be something else we can do. He saved my life! There has to be something there we can at least try to save?” he does not believe his conviction. This was beyond the lengths he thought Viren would go. The queen of the elves is dead, that elf they had trusted, Viren had trusted ruined it all. 

“Harrow…” Amaya signs with a sigh. “You have done enough, Viren is beyond help.” she points at the map where he was last seen. “We have no choice.” 

“I can’t believe that Amaya, why would he go through all that just to do this. What was that elf, how do we know he wasn't responsible?!” he gestures. 

“Enough. Regardless of who was at fault, I will avenge my sister. I have invited you here as a courtesy and on the orders of the dragon queen.” Janai takes the figure off the map, her expression of pure anger. “I will get my revenge,” she repeats, pulverizing the figure in her fist. 

Amaya crosses her arms, not happy to be here among the elves in the first place, just for Viren. She is even less happy with her brother's new body. “We can’t rush this, you saw what he did with that strange power. We must be prepared and not run into it without knowing just what we are riding into.” she signs quickly, Harrow talks with her, translating for the Sunfire's benefit. Gren stayed in Katolis to watch over things in her stead. 

Harrow looks over the map. “Is there not a possibility that the elf is controlling him? That worm came out of his body, that worm that possessed your friend! Could it not be the same situation?” he meets Janai’s eyes.

She hesitates. “Yes, perhaps. That does not change the fact that we have to find him.” 

Harrow nods. “Yes, but promise me that if he is found by your scouts I will be informed and will go with you to confront him.” he runs his hand over the table, digging his claws into the wood. “If Viren is gone, fine but give me a chance to talk to him.” 

Janai searches his features for a moment before nodding. “Fine. You will have one chance. If I do not like what I hear, he will meet his end on my blade.” 

“Fair enough.” Harrow hopes beyond anything this is not what it looks like. If Viren did this of his free will, there will be no stopping him. That man is nothing if not stubborn. 

***

Viren pulls the reins off the horse as they approach the stable in this small village, keeping the staff of the Sunfire priest near him. The older elf sitting on an old tree stump looks up. He narrows his eyes in suspicion. “We do not like half-breeds here, move along.” the elf growls. Viren narrows his eyes at the phrasing. 

So much for finding hospitality in this small village. “I am just passing through, looking for some shelter for the night.” 

“Find it somewhere else” the elf spits on the ground before his feet. Viren sighs. He won’t get answers here. There must be someone here who can give him something just to make the trip back into the human lands. 

“Wait.” Aaravos voice echoes in his head, the worm perches on his shoulder, moving its mouth to speak. 

“For what?” Viren looks around the small homes, remaining on guard. 

“Master Viren! I am glad you made it!” a voice shouts before Aaravos can answer. Viren looks up the road to see an elf exiting a larger house. The same elf that he had seen in Lux Aurea only a short moment before. 

“Myth if I remember correctly?” names were not his priority, but this elf did get his interest. 

“Yup! That’s me. This is my village.” They gesture with a grin. 

“Lord Mythanthar!” the old man struggles to get up to kneel before the elf that enters. 

“Oh, it’s alright Tor, were you on your usual half breeds bullshit? We talked about that. I am also a halfbreed love” Myth crosses their arms. 

“Yes sir, sorry sir.” the old elf stumbles over just to please this seemingly young creature before them. 

“Take their horse, we have much to discuss.” Myth orders. 

Viren watches the old elf carefully, still suspicious. Being called a half-breed does not sit right with him. It makes little sense of what it means. Viren is still human even if his dark magic form can be a monstrous sight to behold. Yet he was sure these elves would have a different reaction for some reason but it is all the same everywhere he goes. Even long-lived minds fear what they do not understand. 

Myth gestures for him to follow. Viren brushes his hair back. He is tired, hungry and has many questions. It is getting old having to follow the commands of others. They expect him to jump to their whims and Viren was never one to follow for long, even with Harrow. 

“Lil’ mage. Mythanthar is only trying to help. They in some ways remain the best of us even in their old age.” Aaravos urges him on with a squeeze of the worm's tail. 

“Old age? He seems like a child not even past his first kiss.” Viren grumbles, letting his exhaustion shine through. 

Myth looks back at him, smiling patiently, pushing up their glasses. 

“It is all an illusion. They were alive at the destruction of Elarion as a young child, there is much they know of your history.” Aaravos sounds forlorn, his voice tinged with grief. The familiar curls around Viren's neck, changing positions on his shoulder. 

Viren looks back at the road from which they came. He could continue his journey across Xadia, survive on what he finds on the road, keep going and stop dealing with elves at last. Though there is as much hate on the human borders for a dark mage, so it would not be safe. Perhaps it is safer to stay put, he runs a hand over his stomach, at least until the children are born. 

Aaravos answers his thoughts. “Perhaps, you should look on your image before you make your choice.” the elf’s familiar moves down Viren’s body to slither along the ground. It moves towards the elf. Myth kneels to listen to what it has to say, petting that long body. 

Viren narrows his eyes. “Why?” he speaks, his throat hurts. The ritual with the worm did not leave him unmarked. 

The elf and the familiar glance at the human. Myth straightens, pulling something out of his bags. “Mirror, here.” he holds it out. 

Viren swallows, looking at the road. He is several steps from the elf and taking the offered object feels like he is making a choice. He sighs, tightening his hand on the sun staff. He feels his curiosity becoming unbearable, stepping away would mean he would leave a chance at knowledge, a chance to know of Elarion from someone who was there. He grinds his teeth, of course, Aaravos must have said that just because he knows how much Viren values knowledge. 

Viren closes his eyes, rubbing at the ridge of his nose. This has gotten so much more out of hand then he expected on that night when he saved Harrow. That night he did not expect to live, yet here he is. This choice if he makes it will be for himself, not for Harrow or the elf but himself and Viren has not a choice that is so self-serving in so long, there was always some bigger sacrifice, some bigger problem. The only problem now is this newfound freedom, where he can do anything, where the elf is pushing him to do anything he dreams of. It is daunting. 

Viren opens his eyes, taking a step forward. The familiar's body moves in a wave, almost excited. Viren takes the mirror. Myth bows again, stepping away. 

His knuckles are white around the small purple handle. He hesitates in turning it. The answer to his visage scares him. Viren has not looked upon himself since that night in the basement looking in the elves prison. 

The worm moves closer, wrapping around his feet. “It will be alright, you look beautiful.” 

Viren feels his heart jump at the compliment. He turns it. It drops out of his hands, shattering on the ground. 

He covers his mouth. His eyes were dark, completely black where white skin used to be. His silver iris stark against that darkness. His skin the color of lavender, the scars of dark magic white, like veins of lightning over his cheeks. This is not just dark magic, he looks barely human. 

“What did you do to me?!” he feels his chest squeeze tight, the scenery becomes blurry and unstable, his knees grow weak. He sinks to the ground. 

Myth looks down at him, unconcerned. The familiar moves up his knee to rest across his back. “Prepared you for greatness, Lil’ mage.”

“You keep saying that! But what does it mean!?” his throat feels like it's closing, he struggles to catch a breath. 

“You will see in time.” Aaravos’ smooth voice comes through the familiar, always certain, always confident. 

“No! You will tell me! Why did we take the staff, why did you need the sun primal, why do you wish to conquer Xadia. Why are you doing this to me!?” it all comes out in one breath. Viren digs his hand into the dirt, the shattered glass on the ground reflect his pained expression in a dozen different ways among the shards. 

“Breathe,” Aaravos instructs the legs of the familiar move across the mages back, only putting Viren more on edge. 

“No! I will not be calm. Answer my questions!” he growls. His eyes go to his hands, the pinkie is discolored, almost transparent. It doesn’t hurt which worries him even more.

“I am making you in my image.” his voice is full of hesitation. Aaravos does not want to tell him. Viren growls, “Get off me!” he pushes against the familiar. 

Myth moves now. “Master Aaravos, give him space.” they offer the caterpillar their hand, It hesitates but then curls around the elf quickly. 

“Lord Viren.” they wait until the man looks up at them. “I know my master is cryptic. Take a deep breath and listen. I can explain it all” 

Aaravos watches through the eyes of the familiar. This game of manipulation has been going according to plan since the first day the mage had exchanged blood with him. Yet now that he watches the man on his knees, clearly suffering, he feels something, something he can't place... That white dress dirty and stained from hours of travel, there are some tears on the thighs, blood long dried. It makes his heartache as it has not in many years. Not since Ziard and Aaravos feels down in his soul that this man is the same just born anew, it is still not the same.

That stirring started when he felt two new souls take hold on to the human. That bright glow of young and innocent souls, strong and beautiful. 

It was not an intended part of his goals, yet there they are, growing strong as the human grows weak. He wants to protect this human, this man that is familiar yet new. It has been so long since he had felt the strength of Ziard’s soul that maybe he is imagining it, that maybe he wants it to be the same. After all these years maybe Aaravos wants to find something familiar, something he loved.

So he changed his plan. It was to be that he would take control of the human, take his body and live a new life but he couldn’t, he can’t. 

His old apprentice helps Viren up, talking quietly. “You will become a being of stars, a being of eternal power just as many have before you.” Their touch is gentle. Viren is put at ease in that relaxing manner. The familiar moves around him again. 

Aaravos sits against the bookcase in his prison, eyes open and shining bright with power as he focuses on keeping the spell that lets him move through the familiar going. Unease and unrest sends shivers through his entire body. Being alone for so long he has forgotten just what it feels like to worry. He has forgotten what it feels like to care for someone else, especially in the way he is starting to feel for the human. 

He breathes out. He knows that he is tempted to push aside his goals of revenge, to just rest and be together with him for a short time, watch those children he carries grow up strong and healthy. It sounds like a beautiful dream after being trapped for so long. 

Yet he feels that his revenge for the dragons is just so close, he has the power, Avizandum is dead, they are weak. This is the best time to strike but it also means abandoning the Lil’ mage in his time of need. Which is the last thing he wants to do but if he let this chance slip away? 

“Master.” he feels a touch on the worm through their shared link. Mythanthar is trying to get his attention. 

Aaravos glances around to see they are in a cave that has been fashioned into a home. It must be just outside the village. Viren is sitting on a chair with a blanket around his shoulders, a wooden table behind him. 

Aaravos has let time get away from him as he got lost in his thoughts. Sometimes days go by and he will only notice when the scenery changes to something he does not recognize as the ages pass him by.

“Yes,” he clears his throat, standing straighter. The familiar moves with him. 

Viren looks up at him. “Why?” 

The caterpillar tilts his head just Aaravos does. 

Viren takes a sip of his tea. “Why did you chose me?” 

“Convenience.” Aaravos narrows his eyes at the hurt look on the human's features. 

“Right. Of course.” Viren mumbles. 

Myth rolls their eyes. “Both of you are fools, convenience, please. Aaravos has loved that messy soul of yours before you were born, why did he choose you ha,” 

“Mythanthar...!” Aaravos growls in warning, that is not something Viren needs to know. 

“Oh shush, You may have been older than me once master, but I am done going along with this pining.” the elf flicks the caterpillar's horns. 

Viren wraps the blanket around him, blush at his cheeks. “So what now. How long will it take me to become…” he gestures, balancing a cup of tea on his knee with one hand. 

“A star touch.” Myth supplies. 

Aaravos sinks back into that distant composure again. “It could take months but you may not have that long.” 

Viren closes his eyes, not liking the sound of that. “What do you mean?” he rubs at the cup, holding it with both hands again. 

Myth lets the familiar talk. His masters need all the practice he can get not being so cryptic with half-formed words. 

“The ceremony, what the Sunfire elves did still lingers.” the caterpillar nods along with his words. “If we change you now, today, your body will absorb and accept the magic.” Aaravos shifts the caterpillar's body, Myth kneels to make it easier for him to get down. It looks up at Viren for permission to get near him again. 

The dark mage nods. Once the familiar is curled safely and comfortably around the man's shoulders again. Aaravos keeps going. “It will be painful, humans and elves are very different in how they are made.” 

Viren’s hand wanders to his stomach. “Will it hurt them?” 

“No,” Aaravos smiles that the humans first thought is not his safety, it is an attractive quality. The choice of staying crosses his mind again. The young dragon prince will not be old enough to cause an issue until well into the future. So maybe he can take the time to be here. 

“If anything it will help the children, they feast on your power as your body is not made to support them. So when we finish the spell that is turning you, they will thrive.” Aaravos runs the familiar's tail over the human's stomach gently. 

Viren takes a deep breath. “Okay, let's do it.” 

Myth looks between them with a smile. “I think you two can figure it out on your own, I have a lot to do elsewhere.” they leave the cave without waiting for an answer. They do not pay them much mind. 

“Lie back, on the ground.” Aaravos orders. 

Viren hesitates. Should he let this creature turn him away from humanity. He once wanted to do everything to help them but when he is not one of them, is that still something he can do. Does this mean he abandons his goals? He looks down at his stomach, running a hand over the baby bump. If he dies so will they, this is again not a choice but a necessity. He has to live to see another day. If he wants to change everything, giving up now is not an option. 

He drops the blanket, letting it slide off his shoulders, setting the cup down on the wooden table behind him. There is no bed in the cave, only a pile of haphazard furs in one corner. Viren goes over to sit on the gathered furs, lying back. The caterpillar slithers out from under his back. It towers over him. Viren swallows nervously, realizing for the first time just how big this creature is. 

“Stay still” Aaravos orders. 

Viren swallows again as he sees those mandibles move. “What are you doing.” 

“Must you know, will it change anything?” the creature chuckles, amused. 

Viren groans, he knows it won't. He lies back keeping still. 

“Keep your eyes open.” the creature's mandibles spin a white liquid between its mandibles. It attaches that white string-like substance to the bottom of his eyes, slowly moving it up and down over the eyes. The sensation is not pleasant, Viren squirms but keeps his head still as it works. 

He does not know how long it takes from the creature to get done, he keeps his eyes open with two fingers after he got too tired to keep it open. Tears stream down his face and the eyes have an aching dry feeling. 

“Done, blink.” the caterpillar leans back as though it is looking over its work. 

Viren squeezes his eyes shut, blinking back more tears. His vision blurred but it slowly comes into focus. There is a figure at the entrance of a cave. Viren sits up quickly, swallowing. He shakes his head, not believing his eyes. “You are here… in front of me…” He stands up to his full height, reaching out with a hand. 

Aaravos smiles “Yes… now you can see me as well as hear me…” he sighs as Viren's hand passes through his image. “But you cannot touch me.” 

“How do we free you” Viren feels the word stumble before he can think. 

Aaravos blinks, surprise clear on his face. This was the last thing he expected the human to say. “We can’t, or at least I do not know how to do so, not in my current body.” 

“Your current body? That means we can bring you out some other way?” Viren bites his lips to resist trying to run his hand over the elf’s cheek. They are so close yet so far. 

“Do not concern yourself, our first priority is giving you a new body.” he lifts his hand to trace it along the mages jaw. Viren can almost feel that touch, leaning into it to only pass through the illusion. 

“If I can help you, repay you for all the power you have given me, for saving my life…I will,” he whispers low. Them standing like this feels almost intimate. 

“Do not be so foolish, I was using you for my goals.” Aavaros turns away with a scoff, stepping back to break the moment. 

Viren follows him. “So was I, that is how the world works, regardless you helped me. So tell me how I can help you.” He examines the elf's hair, that strong muscled back that seems to carry the world on its shoulders. It is the back of someone has known suffering most cannot even comprehend. 

“The only way to truly help is to absorb power none of us could hope to find, the power of a primal dragon.” Aaravos resists hunching his shoulders as he thinks of being stuck in this prison when he was so close to freedom. Maybe he will regret giving up that hope for this man one day, but that day is not today. 

“The power of a dragon… or perhaps a dragon princeling?” Viren smiles, a plan forming in his head. 

“He is now guarded by Zubia, in your state that is not a possibility.” Aaravos rolls his eyes, humans always wanting to end their lives at the hands of dragons. His mind goes back to how ZIard did the same thing, and never returned to him. He will not let it happen again. The moment passed, he let the moment pass for Viren to save him and this is just making it all for nothing.

“Not yet.” Viren takes the staff that leans against the door where Myth had set it earlier. “But I do know if you change me into one of your kind and teach me your power, how to connect to the Primal as a newly reborn elf, then…” Viren trails off. 

Aaravos narrows his eyes, turning back to look at the human, just to see that brave spirit shining bright with determination. “Would you be willing to risk…” 

“Yes,” Viren does not give him a chance to finish. “Think of it as me using you to end this war with the dragons once and for all.” he gestures with the staff. 

Aaravos regards him, humans always have more strength then elves realize. It is a fact Aaravos knows well. He moves closer to Viren, running his hand over the staff. 

“Then we are agreed. We will take the power that they owe us and claim our revenge… together.” 

Viren nods. “Together.” 

They look outside the cave where the sun is starting to set. The future is uncertain, fluid but they have their goal. It will take time, of which they will have plenty once Viren is no longer human. Xadia will not know what is in store for it and what beast it has unleashed with its prejudice. 

Harrow meanwhile searches high and low for that which he has let slip away. His new elven body does not need sleep or rest so he searches, alone, having parted ways with Janai's soldiers many months ago. There is not even a rumor where Viren could be but he never gives up. 

So they go down different paths, one of revenge and one of desire. In time their paths will cross again but neither is ready for what that will entail. 

***End of Part One***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was really fun to write and I am excited to write Part 2 when the next season come out and we get more info on Viren. I have an idea about the Interlude between the drama of the next seasons and our boi's just chilling out while Viren gets ready to have his babs in three months. He and Aaravos are really getting closer. Harrow is suffering meanwhile they are having a nice time just chilling in Myth's village XD!
> 
> Hope yall enjoyed <3


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